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WHIRLPOOLS

THE WORKS OF

HENRYK SIENK1EWICZ

WHIRLPOOLS

"Quo VADIS"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD

THE DELUGE

PAN MICHAEL

CHILDREN OF THE SOIL

HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES

SIELANKA, A FOREST PICTURE AND OTHER

STORIES

THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS
WITHOUT DOGMA
ON THE FIELD OF GLORY

WHIRLPOOLS

of a^ofcem $olant>

BY

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ

AUTHOR or "WITH FIRE AND SWORD," "THE DELUGE/

" Quo VADIS," " CHILDREN OF THE SOIL,"

"WITHOUT DOGMA/' ETC.

TRANSLATED FROM THE POLISH BY
MAX A. DREZMAL

BOSTON

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1910

Copyright, 1910
BY LITTLK, BRCMK&, AND COMPANY

All rights reserved
Published June, 1910

THE UNTVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. 8. A.

WHIRLPOOLS.

PART FIRST.

GRONSKI arrived at the Jastrzeb manor-house about
midnight. In the house all were asleep excepting an old
servant and the young heir, Ladislaus Krzycki, who
awaited his guest with supper and greeted him with great
cordiality, for notwithstanding the disparity in their ages
they were bound by ties of an old intimacy. It continued
from those days when Gronski, as a university student,
surrounded with a tutelary friendship the youthful Krzycki,
who was attending the gymnasium. Later they met fre-
quently and the closer friendly relations between Gronski
and the Krzycki family did not undergo any interruption.

Therefore when, after the first greetings, they repaired
to the dining-room the young heir of Jastrzeb again
began to embrace Gronski. After a while, having seated
him at the table, he shook from his eyes the remnants of
drowsiness which had oppressed him, became thoroughly
animated, and said with sincere happiness :

"How immensely fortunate I am that at last we have
you at Jastrzeb ; and Mother, how she has been expecting
you ! I, whenever I am in Warsaw, always begin with
you, but a year has passed since your last visit here."

Gronski inquired about Pani Krzycki' s health and that
of the younger members of the household, after which
he said:

"It is, indeed, strange that I have not been out in the

1

2 WHIRLPOOLS.

country, not only with you but elsewhere. In summer
time they dispatch me every year to Carlsbad, and after
Carlsbad one strays somewhere in the west. Besides, in
Warsaw matters are now seething as in a caldron, and it
is difficult to tear one's self from all this."

The conversation, which started with a lengthy discus-
sion of public affairs, was afterwards turned by Ladislaus
towards private matters:

"Did you," he said, "besides the notification of the
death of Uncle Zarnowski, receive a letter from Mother?
I ask for this reason : I mailed first the notification, and
later in the day Mother decided to write the letter."

"I received both and for that reason I am here. I tell
you candidly I would not come merely to attend your
uncle's funeral. It is true that a year ago, when he was
in Warsaw for medical treatment, we dined together for
several months at the same club, but that was all; though
people were astonished that such a misanthrope, who
avoided everybody, did not somehow run away from me.
How were your relations? Were they cool to the end?"

"Rather, there were none. He would not receive any-
body and did not wish to see any one, not even his
parish-priest. Extreme unction was administered by the
Canon of Olchowa. When he became seriously ill, we
visited him in Rzeslewo, but he received us with blunt
discourtesy. Mother did not mind it and repeated her
visits, though at times he was disagreeable towards her.
As for myself, I confess that I did not call there again
until he was in a very critical state."

"Did he leave a large estate?"

" Rzeslewo is a huge patch of that kind of soil in which
you can anywhere plant at least onions. There is not
one copper coin of indebtedness. At one time Uncle had
a house in Warsaw, to which he removed the entire equip-
ment from Rzeslewo, which was not, by any means,

WHIRLPOOLS. 3

despicable. We thought that he would reside perma-
nently in the city, but he later sold everything; from
which I infer he must have left funds. Some, as is cus-
tomary with people who are fond of exaggeration, say
hundreds of thousands. The Lord only knows. But this
much is certain: he inherited a great deal from his
brothers. I do not know whether you have ever heard
that there were three of them. One perished, while yet
a student, in a duel at Dorpat; the other died, also
young, from typhoid fever, and Uncle Adam got every-
thing they left."

" It is said that he lived very poorly."

"He stayed a great deal in Warsaw and abroad for his
health. How he lived there I do not know, but, after his
return to Rzeslewo, very wretchedly. I think, however,
that this was more due to whimsicality than to greed, for
he was not greedy. You would not believe how that
manor appeared ; how everything was denuded and aban-
doned. In every room the roof was leaky, and if some
unexpected guests or unknown relatives arrive for the
funeral, I will have to invite them to Jastrzeb, for there
I would not know where to house them."

"Do you know of any other relatives ?"

"Yes, there are Pani Otocka and her sister; also Dol-
hanski, who undoubtedly will come, and ourselves. I
have not heard of others, though in all probability they
will be found, as in Poland everybody is related. Mother
insists that we are the nearest, but, to tell the truth, we
are not very close ; as the deceased was a distant cousin of
Mother's."

"And Pani Otocka and Panna Marynia?"

"Better ask Mother about that; yesterday for an hour
she was expounding to me as to who was born to whom ;
what he was to whom ; whom did who's sister marry,
and what was who's relation to the deceased. I could not

4 WHIRLPOOLS.

grasp it all. Those ladies will be here to-morrow at one
o'clock, and with them an English lady, their friend."

"I know; they told me about that in Warsaw, not
knowing that they would chance upon the funeral.
But that English lady speaks Polish almost as well as
we do."

"What? How is that?"

"Her father owned a factory in which he employed
many Polish workmen. The young lady, while a child,
had a Polish nurse, and later some emigrant taught her
Polish."

"And that she should care for it!"

"Among the English people you will find many odd
characters, and this Mr. Anney was an odd character in
this respect, that he could, like Lord Dudley, select for
his heraldic device: 'Causas non fata sequor,' because,
like huii, he also loved Poland, Polish history, and the
Poles. The workmen were sometimes turbulent and
caused him much annoyance, but this did not dishearten
him. He established schools for them, procured priests,
took charge of the orphans, etc."

"That was a righteous man. But Miss Anney, is she
pretty ? — young ?"

"About Pani Otocka's age — a year younger or older
— and they are very fond of each other. How long is it
since you have seen Pani Otocka and Marynia?"

"It is six years. Pani Otocka was not yet married and
Panna Marynia Zbyltowska was a girl, perhaps ten years
old, in short dresses. I well remember her because even
then she played the violin and was regarded as a child-
wonder. My mother drew nearer to them last summer in
Krynica and has become extraordinarily captivated with
them. She insisted that this winter I should renew their
acquaintance, but they left Warsaw for the winter. Even
then she commanded me to invite them in my own name

WHIRLPOOLS. 5

to Jastrzeb, and a few days before the death of Uncle, she
wrote to them to come for a lengthy visit. Day before
yesterday we received a dispatch that they will come.
You are on intimate terms with them?"

"Yes, on intimate and very sincere terms," answered
Gronski.

"Because I wanted to speak with you a little about
them, but the hour is late and you are after a journey.
Perhaps it would be better to defer it until to-morrow."

"I slept on the train and it is not far from the station
to your place. Besides, I have the bad habit of not re-
tiring to sleep before two o'clock."

Ladislaus' countenance bore slight traces of perplexity.
He poured out for himself a glass of wine, drank it, and
then said:

"The matter is somewhat delicate. I am certain that
Mother has concocted some scheme. Perhaps she may
have written to you about this and, if not, she will speak
about it, because she is much concerned about your opin-
ion, and in a certain contingency will ask your assistance.
Several times she incidentally spoke about your influence
with Pani Otocka. I believe that you have influence with
everybody, not excluding my mother. For that reason I
would like to ask a favor of you."

Gronski glanced at the young nobleman and after-
wards at the servant, as if he wanted to say: "Why is this
witness here ? " Ladislaus understood and said :

"He is very deaf, so we can speak quite freely. He
wheezes because he has the asthma."

Afterwards he continued:

"Mother for the past two years has been bent upon my
getting married, so she bustles about, writes voluminous
letters, and sends me every winter to Warsaw, and I am
certain that last summer she was in Krynica not so much
for her own health, which, God be praised, she preserves

6 WHIRLPOOLS.

so well, but to look over the young ladies and make a
selection. And there these cousins of mine have so be-
witched her that she returned, as I surmise, with a pre-
pared project."

"I must give you warning," interrupted Gronski, "that
so far as Panna Marynia is concerned you are building
an edifice upon ice, as in the first place she is but sixteen ;
and again she will, at the end of autumn, return to the con-
servatory in Brussels ; and thirdly her whole soul is wrapped
up in her violin and in all probability will always remain
there." <*

"May it stay there. You say 'you are building/ but I
not only am not building, but would prefer that Mother
would not build, as it will be unpleasant for her. After
all, my dear mother is the most upright soul in the world,
and beyond doubt all she desires is that I should have a
good and estimable woman for a wife ; but I would prefer
that my future spouse should not resemble too much a
Grecian statue."

"Well then?"

"Well then, Panna Marynia is not involved but only
an ideal and, at the same time, a warm young widow : to
which arrangement I cannot by any means assent."

"I will answer with a Lithuanian anecdote, according to
which an old woman, to a peasant's assertion that he did
not fear the master, replied, 'Because thou hast never
seen him.' Likewise, you have never seen Pani Otocka,
or have forgotten how she looks."

But Ladislaus repeated:

"Not for the world, even if she looked like a sacred
painting."

"Then perhaps you love another?"

"Why, you yourself tormented me last winter about
Panna Rose Stabrowska, and I admit that she has made
an impression upon my heart. But I did not permit my-

WHIRLPOOLS. 7

self to fall in love with her, because I know her parents
would not give her to me. I am not and will not be rich
enough for them. For that reason I escaped from War-
saw before the close of the carnival. I did not wish to
envenom with vain feeling my life or hers, if she should
love me."

"But in case of a will in your favor? Would you not
rush into the smoke like a Uhlan of old ? Is it not true ?"

"Most assuredly; but as I cannot depend upon that,
and as that will not happen, there is no necessity of talking
further about it."

"You spoke, however, of asking a favor of me. In what
can I serve you?"

"I wanted to beg you not to fortify my mother in her
designs as to Pani Otocka."

"How queer you are ! Why, when your mother per-
ceives your disinclination towards her, she will banish
the thought."

"Yes, but there will remain a little regret for herself
and for me. A person is always disappointed when his
plans miscarry, and Mother is so eternally worried, though
often without reason, because, after all, no ruin is threaten-
ing us. But she has so much confidence in your judgment
that if you will explain to her that it is better to abandon
those thoughts, she will abandon them. However, you will
have to contrive it so that it will appear to her that she
herself came to that conclusion. I know you can do it,
and I rely upon your friendship."

"My dear Laudie," said Gronski, "in these affairs I
have less experience, and therefore less judgment, than
the first female neighbor on the border of your estate. In
your mother's letter there appears, word for word, the
same expression: 'I rely upon your friendship/ In view
of this, there remains only one thing to do, and that is not
to meddle in the affair at all, — especially as I will can-

8 WHIRLPOOLS.

didly state to you that I entertain for Pani Otocka no less
friendship than I do for you. Considering the matter
from another light, it is peculiar that we should speak of
Pani Otocka without considering her. It is allowable for
your mother to believe that every woman, if you would
but stretch out your hand towards her, would grab it with
alacrity; but not for you. For you renounce things in
such a way as if everything depended upon you, and I
assure you that it is not so, and that if Pani Otocka should
ever decide to marry, she will be exceedingly particular in
her choice." ^

"You are perfectly right," answered Krzycki, "but I
am not, of course, so foolish or so vain as to imagine that
the whole thing depends upon me. If I have expressed
myself in an unsuitable manner, it is because I thought
only of Mother and myself and not at all of Pani Otocka.
All that I care about is that Mother should not urge me to
seek her hand, as I conjecture I might, after all, get the
mitten."

Gronski scanned the shapely figure of the youth and
answered with a certain benevolent petulance:

"That is well, although I do not know whether you are
talking sincerely ; for men like you, the deuce knows why,
have great luck with women and they know it perfectly
well. What have you against Pani Otocka? Why, you
hardly know her. Let me tell you that both of those ladies
are of such high quality as you rarely find."

"I believe it, I believe it; but, in the first place, Pani
Otocka is fully three years younger than myself, which
means that she is twenty-four, and yet she is a widow."

"Then you have a prejudice against widows?"

"I confess that I have. Let matrimony give me every-
thing that it can possibly give, but a marriage with a
widow will not give me all that. A widow ! — To think
that every word which the maiden blushingly and with

WHIRLPOOLS. 9

palpitating heart whispers, the widow has already told to
some one else : and that which in a maid is, as it were, a
sacrifice to love, in a widow is but a repetition. No, I
thank you, for a flower which somebody else has previ-
ously plucked. Good fortune is not inherited with a
heritage, nor procured at second hand. Let not only
matrimony, but also love, give me all they can give, and,
if not, then I prefer remaining an old bachelor."

"My dear/' answered Gronski, "between the heart
and a bag of money there is, however, a vast difference.
Money, after you once part with it, you have no more,
but the heart is a living organism which regenerates and
creates new forces."

"That may be, — in every case, however, the memory
of the past remains. Finally, I am not enunciating any
general theories, but merely my personal views. Plainly,
I could not love a widow and I do want to love my wife,
even though slightly. Otherwise what enjoyment would
I have in life ? A rural estate ? Good ! I am an agricul-
turist and I agree to plough and sow until death. But
whoever imagines that this will give peace and happiness,
simply has no conception of the load of care, bitterness,
affliction, deception, self reproach, and strife with the bad
will of mankind and nature which one must endure.
There are, it is true, brighter moments, but far oftener one
must defend himself against downright loathsomeness.
Now I want at least this : that I shall return willingly home
from the field or barn ; that in the home there shall await
me fresh, rosy, and tempting cheeks which I crave to kiss,
and eyes into which I would long to gaze. I want to have
some one on whom I can bestow all that is best in me. I
speak of this, not as one who is infatuated with the roman-
tic, but as a sober man who can keep accounts of expendi-
tures and receipts, not only in husbandry but also in life."

Gronski thought that in reality every matured masculine

10 WHIRLPOOLS.

life should bear two faces; one with wrinkled brow, ex-
pressive of intense mental strain, turned towards the prob-
lems of humanity, and the other calm and peaceable at
the fireside in the home.

"Yes," he said, "I would be delighted with such a
home as a refuge from care and in it 'fresh, rosy and tempt-
ing cheeks' as an attraction."

Ladislaus, in his laughter, displayed his sound, shining
teeth and answered joyously:

"Ah, how it does delight me ! the soul almost squeaks."

And they both began to laugh.

"But," said Gronski, "one must be lucky enough to
find that and courageous enough to win."

To Krzycki there suddenly came the recollection of a
certain ball in Warsaw; of Panna Rose Stabrowska, her
pensive eyes, and her white, half-childlike shoulders pro-
truding from the net-lace like watery foam. He therefore
sighed quietly.

"Sometimes," he said, "courage also is necessary to
bridle one's self."

In the chamber for an interval could be heard only the
measured tick-tack of the cumbrous clock and the wheez-
ing of the asthmatic servant, who dozed, leaning against
the sideboard.

The hour was late. Gronski rose and, having roused
himself from a momentary revery, said, as if speaking to
himself :

"And those ladies will be here to-morrow."

Afterwards he added with a touch of sadness :

"Ah, at your age it is not permissible to bridle one's
self."

WHIRLPOOLS. 11

II

THE ladies did actually arrive at Jastrzeb the next day
about noon, followed immediately afterwards by Dol-
hanski, who did not, however, see them on the road, be-
cause at the station he became occupied entirely with the
receipt of the baggage and therefore arrived in a separate
conveyance. The guests did not find Krzycki at home.
As the burden of the funeral, and all cares connected with
it, fell upon him, he left an hour earlier for Rzeslewo.
The obsequies were to take place at three o'clock. Ladis-
laus' mother arrived at the Rzeslewo church with Pani
Otocka, Panna Marynia, and their friend Miss Anney.
In the second carriage Gronski and Dolhanski came,
while the third and last one brought the younger members
of the Krzycki family, — eleven-year-old Anusia and Stas,
who was a year younger, together with their French in-
structress and the tutor, Laskowicz. Pani Krzycki re-
minded her son of his feminine relatives and introduced
him to Miss Anney, but he barely had time to bow and
cast a glance at her when he was summoned away on
some matter relating to the final funeral arrangements.
Alighting from the carriage, the ladies could scarcely press
their way into the church, although an effort was made
to clear a path for them, for in the church and adjacent
enclosure an unusual throng held sway. The greater
landed gentry were represented in extremely scant num-
bers, as the deceased Zarnowski did not associate with
any one, and besides Jastrzeb, Gorek, and Wiatrak, did not
visit any of the manors in the neighborhood. In their
place, the Rzeslewo peasantry appeared as one man, with

12 WHIRLPOOLS.

their wives and children. The reason for this was that from
some unknown source and for some inexplicable reason, a
rumor circulated among them that the deceased had be-
queathed to them his entire fortune. Quite a number
stood outside the church fence, and their loud voices and
anxious faces indicated the impression which the rumor
of the bequest had made upon them.

After chanted vigils and a sufficiently long mass, white
surpliced priests, preceded by a cross, appeared at the
church doorway. After them the coffin was borne. The
hearse stood ready to receive the remains, but peasants,
in implicit faith of the beqftiest, lifted it upon their shoul-
ders to carry to the cemetery, which was a verst distant
and in which was located the tomb of the Zarnowskis.
Gronski gave his arm to Pani Krzycki, Dolhanski to Pani
Otocka, while the duty of escorting the light-haired Miss
Anney fell to Krzycki. After an interval, the funeral
cortege slowly proceeded in the direction of the cemetery.

From under the shade of church lindens it soon ad-
vanced upon the field-road, flooded with sunshine, and
extended itself in a long line. At the head went the priests ;
after them the coffin, swung high up on the shoulders of
the peasants; the relatives and guests followed, and after
them came swarms of gay peasant national dresses and
feminine handkerchiefs gaudily spotted with yellow and
red colors, which glaringly contrasted with the green,
sprouting spring corn. Church flags, with skulls and pic-
tures of saints, floated heavily in the golden air and at
times heaved with a flap when assailed by the wind. In
this manner, glistening in the sun, the crowd approached
the poplars which shaded the cemetery. From time to
time the chant of priests resounded, breaking out suddenly
and with great sadness. Nearer the cemetery the peas-
ants commenced the litany and gusts of wind seized these
Polish and Latin songs and carried them with the odor of

WHIRLPOOLS. 13

candles, which were continually blown out, and the scent
of the drippings of the torches to the forests.

Krzycki, who escorted Miss Anney, observed that her
hand, which rested upon his arm, trembled considerably.
It occurred to him that she probably had tired it,
holding her parasol on the road from Jastrzeb to Rzes-
lewo, and he paid no more attention to it. In the con-
viction that such a solemnity as a funeral exempted him
from starting the usual social conversation, he walked in
silence. He was fatigued and hungry. Disordered
thoughts rushed into his head. He thought of his uncle,
Zarnowski, of his inability to mourn for him, of the fu-
neral, of his newly-arrived cousins, and of yesterday's
conversation with Gronski. At times he would gaze, ab-
stractedly, at the near by fields and half-consciously would
note that the winter-corn on the fertile Rzeslewo soil, as
well as the spring grain, gave promise of a bountiful
harvest. After a certain time he recollected that it would
be proper for him to devote a little more attention to his
companion.

Somehow, after a few stealthy glances, his curiosity,
which thus far had been deadened by fatigue, hunger, and
ill-humor, was awakened. The proximity of a woman,
young and, as he observed, stately, began to affect
him. It seemed strange to him in the first place that he
was conducting over the Rzeslewo highway an English-
woman, who came, the Lord knew from where; that a
short while before he was unacquainted with her and at
present felt the warmth of her arm and hand. He ob-
served also that her hand, tightly incased in a glove,
though shapely, was not at all small ; and he thought that
the reasons for this were the English sports — tennis, row-
ing, archery, and the like. "Our Polish women/' he
thought, "look differently." Under the influence of these
reflections upon English sports, it seemed to him that

14 WHIRLPOOLS,

from this quaintly attired form some peculiar power,
healthiness, and energy emanated. His companion be-
gan to interest him more and more. Leading her on his
arm, he could see only her profile, upon which he bestowed
increased attention. As a consequence of more exact ob-
servation, his curiosity intensified. In the first moments
he conceded only that she was a comely and buxom per-
son, but later he soliloquized in this fashion: "How vastly
more stately and, sincerely speaking, more beautiful she
is than Pani Otocka or that child, whose dresses reach to
her ankles and whose soul^^as Gronski says, is in the vio-
lin ! " But this, however;;was not the strict truth, for Pani
Otocka, a slender brunette with the expression of a blonde,
was of a type more exquisite and racial, and the "child"
had a countenance simply angelic. But at that particu-
lar moment, if a secret ballot had been taken upon this
question, Krzycki, owing perhaps to his opposition to his
mother's designs, would have cast his vote for Miss
Anney.

After a certain time, it seemed to him that Miss Anney
also was casting stealthy glances at him. He determined
to catch her in the act and looked at her more openly.
And then he saw something which astonished him in the
highest degree. On the cheeks of the young English-
woman tear after tear coursed. Her lips were compressed
as if she desired to stifle her impressions and her hand,
supported on his arm, did not cease to tremble.

"Either this is affected sensibility," Krzycki thought,
"or else her English nerves are jangled. Why the deuce
should she weep over a man whom she never saw in her
life ? Unless it reminded her of her father's burial or that
of some near relative ? "

Miss Anney did not look at all like a person with jangled
nerves. Somehow, after a time, her emotion passed. She
began to gaze with particular interest and attention upon

WHIRLPOOLS. 15

the throng of people, the neighborhood, the fields, and the
distant fringe of the forest as if she desired to retain them
all permanently in her memory.

"She should have taken a kodak with her," thought
Ladislaus.

They were already not far from the cemetery gates.
But in the meanwhile a wind stronger than the former
gusts broke loose. It swept suddenly across the field of
sprouting grain, raised a cloud of dust on the highway,
snuffed out the mendicant candles which were not ex-
tinguished before, and entwined Krzycki's neck with Miss
Anney's long boa.

She relinquished his arm and, freeing him from his ties,
said in Polish with an almost imperceptible foreign accent :

"I beg your pardon. The wind — "

"That is nothing," answered Ladislaus. "Perhaps
you would prefer to take a carriage, for the squalls are
breaking out more frequently."

"No, thank you," she replied; "I believe we are near
the cemetery. I will walk alone, because I must hold my
boa and dress."

During this conversation they stood opposite each
other for a moment and, although that moment was brief,
Ladislaus made a new discovery. Not only did he con-
firm his previous opinion that Miss Anney was, in reality,
very beautiful and had an extraordinarily transparent
complexion, set off with light hair, but above all else that
her blue eyes did not radiate with two separate beams, but
rather with a single, gentle, blue, slightly misty, soulful
light. He was unable to explain to himself in what lay the
distinct and peculiar charm of that look, but he felt it
perfectly.

In the meantime, they reached the cemetery. A short
prayer detained all at the gates, after which the funeral
cortege moved between the poplars, swung by the winds,

16 WHIRLPOOLS.

and crosses overgrown by luxuriant grass on the mounds,
under which slept the Rzeslewo peasantry. The Zar-
nowski tomb stood in the centre. In its front walls could
be seen an opening, knocked out for the reception of a new
member of the family. At the side there were two masons,
with whitened aprons, having at their feet prepared cement
and a pile of new bricks. The coffin was placed upon the
sand near the opening and the priests began a long chant
over it. Their voices rose and then fell, like waves, in a
rolling and dreamy rhythm, which was accompanied by
the roar of the poplars, the Capping of the flags in the air,
and the hum of prayers uttered, as if mechanically, by
the peasants. Then the parish-priest of Rzeslewo began
a discourse. As he did not live on good terms with the
deceased, he commended his soul to the divine mercy
rather than praised him. About could be seen the faces
of the Zarnowski relatives, grave and appropriately grouped
for the occasion, but no grief, not a tear. They were
rather indifferent, with an expression of expectancy, and
even tedium. The coffin appeared to be only awaiting the
close of the rites, as if it was anxious to enter that vault
and darkness, for which it was appropriately designed.
In the meantime, after the sermon, songs began to ring.
At moments they subsided, and then could be heard only
the revelry of wind among the poplars. At last a high
voice, as if startled, intoned "requiem aeternam" and
fell suddenly like a pillar of dust twirled by the storm;
and after a momentary silence "eternal repose," full of
solace, resounded and the ceremony was over.

On the coffin they threw a few handfulls of sand, and
then pushed it into the opening which the masons began
to wall up, laying brick upon brick and coating them
with mortar. The barrier, which was to forever separate
Zarnowski from the world and light, grew with each mo-
ment. Groups of peasants slowly left the cemetery. Two

WHIRLPOOLS. 17

female neighbors from Gorek, a Pani Wlocek, an old
and pathetic dame, and her daughter, who was not young,
approached Pani Krzycki and felt it incumbent upon
them to offer a "few words of consolation," which nobody
expected and which were absolutely unnecessary. Gronski
began to converse with Ladislaus:

"Observe," he quietly said, looking at the work of the
masons, "yet a few more bricks and then, as Dante says,
'Aeterna silenza.' No sorrow, not a tear; no one will
ever come here expressly for him. Something similar
awaits me, and you remember that thus they bury old
bachelors. Your mother is quite right in wanting to have
you married."

"To tell the truth," answered Krzycki, "the deceased
was not only an old bachelor, but also was unsocial. But
finally, is it not all the same ? "

"After death, certainly. But during life, when you
think of it, it is not at all the same. This ' lust for posthu-
mous grief may be illogical and foolish, but nevertheless
it exists."

"Whence does it come?"

"From an equally unwise desire to outlive self. Look,
the work is finished and Zarnowski is sealed up. Let us

go-"

At the gates the rattle of the approaching carriages was
heard. The party moved towards the exit. The ladies
now were in the lead; after them the priests and guests
walked, with the exception of Dolhanski, who was talking
to the Englishwoman.

Suddenly Ladislaus turned to Gronski and asked:
"What is Miss Anney's Christian name?"
"While we are in the cemetery you might have thought
of something else. Her Christian name is Agnes."
"A beautiful name."
"In England it is quite common."
2

18 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Is she rich?"

"And that question you could defer to another time,
but if you are in a hurry, ask Dolhanski. He knows those
things best."

"I ask you because I see him with her and hear him
chattering in English."

"Oh, that is a play within a play! He is after Pani
Otocka."

"Ah!"

" Equally as old as it is fruitless. For it is yet difficult to
ascertain with any exactness how much Miss Anney pos-
sesses, while the amount which the late Director Otocki
left his wife is perfectly known."

"I have a hope that my beautiful cousin will give him
the mitten."

"Which would increase a beautiful collection. But tell
me, what do you think of your cousins?"

" Certainly — Pani Otocka — certainly — both have
what the Galicians call ' something ennobling/ But
Panna Marynia is still quite a child."

Gronski directed his eyes at the slim and slender figure
walking before them and said:

"That is a child who could as well fly in the air as walk
on earth."

"An aeroplane or what?"

"I warn you that she is the object of my highest adora-
tion."

"So I have heard. It is already known to all men."

"Only they do not know that that adoration is not of
a red color, but heavenly blue."

"I do not understand that very well."

"When you are better acquainted with her you will
understand me."

Krzycki, who was more interested in Miss Anney, wanted
to turn the conversation to her, but they passed the gates,

WHIRLPOOLS. 19

before which the horses waited. The young man pro-
ceeded to assist the ladies to their seats, in which operation
he saw directed towards himself for a moment the soulful
eyes of the Englishwoman. Preparatory to her departure,
his mother asked him whether he had finished his duties
connected with the funeral and whether he would return
immediately to Jastrzeb.

"No," he answered; "I have made an arrangement with
the parish-priest that he should permit me to invite the
priests to the rectory, and I must entertain them there.
But as soon as I greet them and eat something, I will
excuse myself to the guests and return as soon as possible."

Here he bowed to the ladies, after which he removed his
hands from the carriage, cast a glance at the chestnut
thill-horse to see if he did not overreach, and shouted :

"Go ahead!"

The carriage trundled over the road on which the
funeral cortege had passed. Of the participants who were
dressed in surtouts, besides Ladislaus, only Dolhanski
remained. He felt that, as a relative of the deceased, it was
also his duty to entertain the priests who officiated at the
obsequies; and besides, he had other reasons which
induced him to remain in Ladislaus' company.

They had barely settled in the britzska, when he began
to look around among the peasants, who still stood here
and there in groups, and then asked:

"Where is the notary Dzwonkowski?"

Ladislaus smiled and replied:

"He rode ahead with the priests, but to-night you will
see him at Jastrzeb, for he invited himself there."

"So; then I regret that I did not return with the ladies.
I wanted to wring from him some information regarding
the will, and I thought that later that might not be
possible."

"Patience. The notary told me that the will is to be

20 WHIRLPOOLS.

opened the day after to-morrow in his office and that we
will have to drive over there for that purpose."

"But I wished to know to-day whether it will be worth
while for me to wait until to-morrow or the day after. If
this precious uncle of ours has let us drift, as the saying is,
upon a swift current of water, then Pani Wlocka was right
in offering us words of consolation. I, at least, will need
them for a long time."

"How can you talk that way?"

" I am saying aloud what you all secretly think. I am
very anxious about that will. I care more for Dzwonk-
owski at the present moment than for the entire terrestial
globe together with the five parts of the world; and more
particularly since I have seen that he brought a bundle of
papers with him."

"As to that you may rest at ease. He is the greatest
musico-maniac that I have ever met. He worships Panna
Marynia, with whom he became acquainted at Krynica.
From Gronski I have learnt that in the moonlight sonata,
in the Benois arrangement for the vi lin, he arranged the
notes for the flute and sent them t< her in Warsaw. To-
day he wants to see how they will g<; Therefore he
invited himself to Jastrzeb, and he brought with him,
besides the sonata, a bundl ;;' other notes. I assure you
that he will not want to talk speak of anything else."

"In that case, may the devils carry off Dzwonkowski's
flute, Panna Marynia's violin, your Jastrzeb piano, and
music in general."

On this Ladislaus looked at him spitefully and said :

"Be careful about o1 Jastrzeb piano, because if you
hear a trio to-night, yor will find Pani Otocka at the piano."

"I have a hope that ic will be, at least, as much out of
tune as I am at present and, in that case, I will not envy
either her or the auditors. But I see that Gronski has
filled you with idle gossip. Good ! Unlike him, I do not

WHIRLPOOLS. 21

have an old bachelor's hankering after boarding-house
misses and I like young teals only on a platter. Let him
feast his eyes with his Marynia; let him pray to her, but
let him leave me alone. They all have gone crazy on
music there, and are ready to infect you in Jastrzeb. Only
Miss Anney does not play on anything, and has a little
sense."

"Ah, Miss Anney does not play on anything?"

"Yes. But that does not prevent her from playing, in a
certain case, upon me or on you, but much more easily
upon you than me."

"Why more easily upon me?"

"Because I am that particular kind of instrument that
wants to know in advance how much the concert will
bring."

Ladislaus, accustomed of old to Dolhanski's cynicism,
shrugged his shoulders, but did not have time to reply as
they had in the meantime arrived at the rectory.

*o 9
10 •

22 WHIRLPOOLS.

Ill

DOLHANSKI, in fact, could not extract from the notary,
anything but testy replies. Immediately after his recep-
tion at the rectory the old notary became very garrulous,
but spoke with Ladislaus only about Marynia, for
whom he had an unbounded Admiration. At present he
feared that Pani Krzycki might not consent to an evening
musicale on the day of the funeral of a relative, and that
fear did not cease to disturb him. Under this impression
he began to demonstrate that music may as well be asso-
ciated with death as with life; that impressive music
always attends funerals, and that as mankind has not
devised anything better than music, not even for the wor-
ship of God, therefore it may be taken for granted that
music facilitates the flight of the soul to heaven, and even
salvation. Ladislaus bit his mustache and, without quali-
fication, concurred in this reasoning, knowing that the
amiable old gentleman was wont to berate his opponents
unmercifully. With this kind of talk, in which, to Dol-
hanski's great irritation, there was no mention of the will,
they passed their time on the way to Jastrzeb. There
they were served with tea. As the wind had subsided
entirely before the setting sun and the evening was delight-
ful, the ladies, with Gronski, were in the garden. When
Ladislaus and his companions followed them, they found
Pani Krzycki and Pani Otocka on the bank of the pond,
while Miss Anney and Marynia were in a boat on the pond.
A ruddy lustre permeated the whole air ; the scent of elders,
which grew near the water's edge, blended with the odor
of the turf, duck-weed, and fish. The water was dark

WHIRLPOOLS. 23

green on the border from alders and willows which hemmed
it in, but in the centre, on the overflow, it was golden, with
reflections of purple and peacock feathers. The boat
floated towards the point, whose narrow girdle from the
garden side served as a landing-place. Marynia sat in the
middle of the boat, but Miss Anney, standing at the stern,
manipulated it with a single oar, propelling and at the
same time steering with uncommon skill. On the back-
ground of water and sky she loomed up from head to foot
with strong and graceful form, her rounded bosom moving
in unison with the movements of the oar. At moments
she ceased to paddle and when the boat, gliding each
moment more slowly, at last stood still upon the smooth
water, there could be seen in the mirrored pellucidness
another boat, another Marynia, and another Miss Anney.
In this picture there was great pastoral calm. The lustre
in the heavens grew ruddier as if the entire western world
had been embraced in a conflagration. High above the
pond, under the flaming cupola of heaven, strings of wild
ducks appeared as if tied together by black crosses.

The trees stood motionless and the silence was broken
only by the sounds of the windmill, coming from the
direction of the dam.

After a while Miss Anney touched shore. Gronski, who
was anxious that his "adoration" should not wet her feet,
hastened to assist her out of the boat, while the English-
woman leaped unassisted upon the sand and, approaching
the company, said:

"How charming it is here in Jastrzeb ! "

"Because the weather is fine," said Ladislaus, drawing
nearer. "Yesterday it was cloudy, but to-night it is
beautiful."

And having scanned the heavens, he, like a true husband-
man, added:

"If it will continue thus, we will start mowing the hay."

24 WHIRLPOOLS.

And Miss Armey gazed at him, as if she discovered some-
thing unusual in the sounds of those words, and began to
repeat them in the same fashion that one repeats words
which he desires to firmly implant in the memory.

"The hay — the hay."

The party turned towards the house, which was being
bleached, or rather rouged, amidst the lime-trees, con-
versing a little about the funeral and the late Zarnowski,
but more about the village, the spring evening, and music.
Pani Krzycki assured the newly-arrived ladies that in
Jastrzeb before their arrival ^nusic was not wanting, as
there were so many nightingales in the park that at times
they would not let any one sleep. At this Gronski, who
was a man of great erudition, began to discourse upon coun-
try life ; that, in truth, it was, from time immemorial, con-
sidered the only real and normal life. He mentioned inci-
dentally the Homeric Kings, " who rejoiced in their hearts,
counting sheaves with the sceptre," and various Roman
poets. In conclusion he announced, as his opinion, that
socialism will shatter to pieces upon agriculture and the
soil, because it considers them only as a value, while they
are also an affection, or, in other words, not only is a price
placed upon them, but they are also loved. Men know
what cares are coupled with country life, but in truth it is
the only life they prize, as if in it " even bird's milk was
not lacking." l

To Pani Krzycki, who, next to her children, loved, above
everything else in the world, Jastrzeb, the words of Gronski
appealed very convincingly, but Dolhanski, recalling a
village he once owned and squandered, replied, drawling
his words as usual:

"Bird's milk may not be lacking, but money is lacking.

1 "Even bird's milk is not lacking," a Polish proverbial ex-
pression signifying "abundance," "living in clover."

WHIRLPOOLS. 25

Besides, it is amusing to hear these eulogies upon country
life pronounced by a rich man who could buy for himself
a tract of land and settle in the country, but whom it is
necessary to pull out of the city with hooks." Then ad-
dressing Gronski:

"Apropos of your Homeric Kings, and with them your
Virgils and Horaces, why, in their days there certainly
were not such hotels on the Riviera and such clubs in Nice
as at present.'*

But this observation was passed in silence, or rather it
was interrupted by a musical passage intoned to Marynia
in an old wooden voice by the notary who wanted in this
manner to illustrate the junction of two phrases in Bruch's
concerto. Afterwards various other phrases incessantly
resounded until the party returned to the house. Gronski
knew the mania of the old man and envied him for having
found something in life which filled it out so completely
for him. He was a highly educated dilettante, but had
settled upon nothing permanently in life and did not
consecrate all his spiritual powers to anything exclusively.
This was partly due to his environment, and partly to his
own fault. The profoundest essence of his soul was a sad
scepticism. One of his friends, Kloczewski, called him
"an ecclesiastic in a dress-suit/' Somehow, the final
result of Gronski's meditation upon the future and human
life, individual as well as collective, was the conviction that
the future and the human life may, with time, become
different,, but never better. So he thought that it might
be worth while not to spare efforts to make them some-
time better, but it would not be worth while that they
should be different only. This thought protected him, how-
ever, from the bordering pessimism, as he understood that
the measure of happiness and misfortune rested not on the
external, but in the man himself, and that as long as other-
wise did not mean better, then by the same reasoning

26 WHIRLPOOLS.

it did not also mean worse. At bottom he was persuaded
that the one and the other were only a mistake and a de-
lusion, and that everything, not excluding life, was one
great vanity. In this manner, he revered, across the sea of
ages, the true Ecclesia.

But, being at the same time a man of sentiment, he
fell in a continual clash with himself, his sentiment always
craving for something, while his sad scepticism iterated
that it was not worth while to desire anything. His feel-
ings were preyed upon by the thought that his views were
in conflict with life, while life ^as an imperative necessity.
Therefore, whoever with doubts corroded its roots injured
humanity, and Gronski did not desire to injure anybody,
much less his own people. For this reason the ecclesiastic,
contending that all was vanity, wrangled within him,
with the patriot who said, for instance, that national suf-
fering was not in vain. But this state of affairs bred
within him such incessant discord that he envied men of
action who journey through life without any whys or
wherefores, as well as people who absolutely succumb to
one great feeling.

For the old notary and Marynia, such a great feeling
was music ; so that as often as Gronski saw them together,
so often did he have before his eyes a living example that
things do exist with which one can fill out his life from
dawn until the last moments, — if only one does riot sub-
ject them to a too close analysis.

WHIRLPOOLS. 27

IV

AT the supper the aged notary was occupied solely with
music and Marynia. To the others, with the exception of
the lady of the house, upon whom permission for the
concert depended, he replied irascibly; especially to
Dolhanski, who several times tried to elicit from him some
information about the will. His angry and apoplectic
face cleared up only after Pani Krzycki announced that
she would have no objections to devoting the remainder of
the evening to decorous music, and that she herself would
be glad to listen to Marynia, whom she had not heard since
the last charitable concert in Krynica.

Towards the close of the supper the old gentleman again
began to get impatient, remarking that it was a pity to
waste tune in eating, and discussing even music, if light
and frivolous, with profane individuals who had no con-
ception of the real art. He became more interested after
listening to the reasonings of Gronski, who began to talk
about the origin of music and refute the Darwinian theory
that songs and the sounds of the primitive string instru-
ments arose in some misty era of the human race from the
amorous declarations and calls of men and women in the
forests. Gronski shared the opinion of those who against
these views cited the fact that among the most savage
tribes no traces of love-songs exist, but in their place are
found war-songs and martial music. The theory of calling
through the forests appeared to the ladies more poetical.
Gronski placated them with the statement that this did
not lessen the civilizing importance of music, that it, with

28 WHIRLPOOLS.

the dance, was one of the first factors which promoted
among the scattered tribes of men a certain organization.

"The Papuans," he said, "who gather together for the
performance of a war or ceremonial dance in accordance
with the rhythm of even their wildest music, by that act
alone submit to something, introduce some kind of order,
and form the first social ties."

"That means," observed Dolhanski, "that every nation
owes its origin to some primitive 'high-diddle-diddle, the
cat and the fiddle/"

"Of course it is so," angrily answered the old notary.

Afterwards turning to Gronski, he said: "Please pro-
ceed. We can at least learn something."

"Yes, please proceed," repeated Marynia.

So Gronski began further to speak of the history of
music ; how through the entire course of ages it served war,
ceremonies of state, as well as religious and secular, and
how considerably later it outspread its own wings, on
which it soars as at present, like an eagle, over the entire
human race.

"A strange art," he concluded; "the most primitive;
yet to-day resting more than any other upon science; the
most precisely confined within certain technical require-
ments, as if bound by dams and dykes ; yet the most illim-
itable, the most mystical; overflowing the borders of
existence and life. Perhaps this gives it such incompre-
hensible power over the human soul; speaking the least
expressive of tongues and at the same time the most
idealistic. It is the most powerful spur to action. Yes,
to the Polish regiments in the battle of Gravelotte the
Prussian bands played * Poland is not yet lost/ and
everywhere you may behold the same. Play to the French-
men the 'Marseillaise/ the Germans 'Wacht am Rhein/
how their hands begin to quiver ! Even the eyes of phleg-
matic Englishmen and Americans sparkle when they hear

WHIRLPOOLS. 29

'Rule Britania' or 'Yankee Doodle.' Strange art! —
the most cosmopolitan and at the same time the most
national, — universal and individual."

"One thing you did not say and that is that of all arts it
is the purest," added Pani Otocka.

"Attempts have been made to illegitimatize it," an-
swered Gronski, "but licentiousness never can be rhyth-
mical nor harmonical, and for that reason from these
attempts there was born an antichrist of music."

But Ladislaus, who was a trifle bored and would have
preferred to talk with the light-haired Miss Anney, spoke
out with the evident desire to close the discussion.

"Yes, it is plain that not only every nation but every
man has his own music. I, for instance, am always willing
to hear a concert or an opera, but I admit, that when
sometimes the boys and girls at work in the field sing
until the pitchforks and harrows ring, that is the only
music for me."

"Slavonian, Lechite, Piast — come to my arms,"
drawled Dolhanski.

Ladislaus blushed a little from fear that the young
Englishwoman and his refined female relatives might
judge him too rustical, but they glanced at him with a
certain sympathy. Only the beard of the old classical
notary drooped with his nose in a manner boding no good,
and from his lips he mumbled a half -distinct grumble :

"To some folks it is sufficient, when anything jingles
in their ears."

But recollecting that it would not be agreeable to Pani
Krzycki if caustic remarks were directed against her son,
he cast an uneasy look at her and became silent.

The supper was finished. The company went to the
salon in which prevailed coolness and the slight scent of
jasmine blown in from the garden by the light evening
breezes before the windows were closed. In the glass

30 WHIRLPOOLS.

doors appeared the big full moon, which but recently
arose slowly in the heaven, still ruddy after a bath in the
evening twilight. Pani Otocka sat at the piano; beside
her the notary began to blow, as if with anger, into the
flute; while behind them stood Marynia with a violin at
her shoulder. Gronski with rapture gazed at her luxuri-
ant dark hair; her peaceful, arched eyebrows under a
forehead plainly immaculate; her small countenance;
her slender, growing, childlike form, and thought that this
sight alone would suffice for music, or at least that such a
violinist might pass for its incarnation and symbol. Lad-
islaus, although he had previously enlisted in the ranks
of the English faction, could not remove his eyes from her.
After completing his university education, he had accom-
panied his mother on a journey to Italy. He visited vari-
ous galleries and, though he lacked solid artistic culture,
nevertheless the thought crossed his mind that this maiden
with the bright and peaceful countenance, bending over
the violin, might have served the old masters as a model
for Saint Cecilia or for one of those angelic violin-players
which he had seen in the paintings of Fra Angelico.

The other listeners, like Pani Krzycki, her children, the
instructress, and Miss Anney, gazed at her as if at a mira-
cle-working image. Only one, Laskowicz, young Stas'
tutor, did not share in the general rapture. He was a
medical student who, owing to the closing of the uni-
versity, was earning money by teaching for the further
pursuit of his studies, and he found himself, together
with his inexorable hatred for the "pampered" of this
world, like Pilate in Credo, in this country home. His
convictions by this time were not a secret to anybody in
Jastrzeb; he was tolerated, however, with that improvi-
dent indulgence of which the Polish nobility is only cap-
able, upon the principle that "the greatest radical must
eat," and also in the hope that Stas was yet too young to
be infected with the "evil spirit" by his tutor.

WHIRLPOOLS. 31

To Laskowicz, when he looked at the gentle young
lady, it seemed that she was a flower which grew higher
than the hands of a proletaire could reach; therefore she
was bred to the injury of the proletariat. This was suffi-
cient for him to look on both sides with reluctance and a
readiness to hate.

But, in the meanwhile, the moment for beginning the
concert had arrived. For some time Marynia had been
drawing the bow over the chords, turning the ringlets of
the violin, and passing her fingers over the notes, indicat-
ing something to her sister and the notary; afterwards
silence ensued, interrupted only by the indistinct talk of
the servants, assembled beyond the windows, who for the
first time* in their lives were to hear the young lady play on
the violin.

32 WHIRLPOOLS.

THE first chords of the moonlight sonata are sounded and
a vision begins. Lo ! a pale ray creeps stealthily through a
crevice and touches the forehead of a sleeper, as if it
wanted to arouse thought; afterwards the lips, as if it
wished to waken words, an/1 later the bosom, as if it de-
sired to stir the heart. But the weary body slumbered in
a heavy sleep. In its place the soul emerges from its em-
brace, like a butterfly from a cocoon, and flies into space.
The night is bright and silent. Below, alders are dimly
wrapped in muslin mists. On the sylvan meadows nymphs
dance their rites, accompanied by the playing of a faun
on a flute. About, stand with flaming azure eyes, stags,
crowned with antlers. On the heath, glow-worms glim-
mer; on the moss, phosphorate toadstools, under whose
canopies tiny elfs watch the gambols. From the decaying
vegetation and fens rise Jack-o'-lanterns which flit about
lightly and mysteriously, as if seeking something in vain.
The moon ascends each moment higher and higher, and
bounteous dew falls.

Over the vast fields rivers wind in silvery ribbons and
tracks of the roadways can be seen leading to towns and
castles. Through the narrow Gothic windows the moon's
lustre invades silent castle-halls, where lurk the ghosts of
dead knights and maidens. At the feet of the castles, cities
slumber. In the calm light the roofs of houses whiten
and crosses on the towers glitter. From the blossoming
orchards, with the vapors rises the fragrance of flowers
and grass. But lighter than the fragrance and the moon-
light the winged soul soars higher and farther. The lowly

WHIRLPOOLS. 33

habitations of men vanish; likewise vanish the forests,
vales, sparkling shields of ponds, and the white threads
of streams. Gradually lofty regions are attained.

And lo, the mountains! Amidst the crags sleeps the
translucent buckler of the lake. In the chasms lies con-
cealed cool dusk. The needles of the glaciers shine ver-
dantly. On the declivities and rocky nests rest the weary
clouds and mists; and on the peaks, on the eternal snow
the moonlight reposes. Even the wind has fallen asleep.
How still, ethereal, and immense ! Here the moon is the
only sentinel of silence and the human soul the only living
entity. Free as a mountain eagle, detached from the flesh,
enamoured with the expanse, desolation, and silence, happy,
and sad with a supernal sorrow, dissolved in the stillness,
she hovers and courses above the precipices; and again
flies farther on, entirely abandoned to pleasure, flight, and
speed.

And the mountains have already disappeared beneath
her and lo ! some voices rise and reach from below as if
summoning her to them. It is the sea. It, alone, never
sleeps ; restless and vast, it dashes wave after wave against
the shore, as if it were an immense pulsation of life. Its
monstrous lungs heave and fall eternally and at times
groan in complaint of endless toil.

The ruffled expanse of the sea throbs with the opa-
lescent lunar lustre and the silvery laces of stars, and on
those illuminated tracks, in the distance appears, wakeful
as the sea itself, a ship with sails and a sanguinary light
in the rounded windows.

But thou, oh soul, mountest higher and higher. Al-
ready the earth is left somewhere at the bottom of the
abyss. Thou, light as down, dost pass feathery clouds,

3

34 WHIRLPOOLS.

which have strayed upon the heights and dost pierce space
flooded with splendor — empty and cool. There thou liest
upon thine own wings and floatest about in luminous
nothingness; higher and higher; and now doth scintillate
and change color over thee, in gold and purple, the jewels
of heaven, and thou dost frolic and swing in the unattain-
able ether, serene, freed from the dross of matter as if, be-
yond the limits of time and space, thou wert already
partly admitted into heaven.

The firmament of heaven* grows each moment darker,
but the moon, great as the world, shines more and more
brightly. Already we behold her glistening plains, mangled,
wild, studded by mountain peaks, perforated with the
blackness of craters, bleak, frosty, and lifeless. Thus in
the abyss of space appears this silvery, corpse-like wan-
derer, who speeds around the earth as if condemned by a
divine command to a perpetual race. Above and about her,
an immensity which the swooning brain is incapable of
comprehending. A new galaxy of stars twinkle sanguin-
arily and powerfully, like distant fire-places. The music
of spheres is heard. Here Eternity fans with her breath
and a supernal chill prevails.

Return, over-indulged swan, return, oh soul, before
some occult rapids and whirlpools seize thee and tear thee
forever from the earth.

Thou returnest from the pinnacle of all-existence,
bathed in the waves of infinity, purer and more perfect.
Lo, thou furlest thy wings ! Look, in the depths beneath
are those downy, light clouds, which now thou greetest as
thine own and kin. Below, the earth. The protuber-
ances of the mountains flash to the moon; at their feet
sobs the sea. And now lower, the vague outlines of forests,

WHIRLPOOLS. 35

enveloped in mist. Again whiten the cities, silent towers
and roofs of villages sunk in sleep. The night grows pale.
On the moors, ostlers build fires and play on fifes. The
roosters crow. The day breaks. It is dawn.

The strains subsided and silence ensued. Marynia
stood near the piano with a countenance, composed as
usual, but seemingly, awakened from a dream.

The aged notary sat for a while with bowed head,
moving his toothless jaws; afterwards he rose, and when
the young maid placed the violin beside the key-board, he
ardently kissed her hands; after which he threw a chal-
lenging look at those present as if he sought the person
who would dare to protest against that mark of homage
or deem it a superfluous act. Nobody, however, protested
because under the enchantment of that music that hap-
pened with the listeners which always happens with man-
kind, when fanned by the breath of genius. As sometimes
in a dream it seems to a person that having shoved himself
off the earth with his feet, he afterwards reels a long time
in the air, so, too, their bodies became lighter, less material,
as if deprived of those heavy and gross elements which
bound them to the earth. Their nerves became more sus-
ceptible and subtle and their souls more volatile, ap-
proaching more closely those boundaries on which eternity
begins. It was an unconscious feeling; after the passage
of which the daily life was to encompass and drag them
down. But during this momentary exaltation there awak-
ened within them, unknown to themselves, a power of
apprehending, appreciating, and feeling beauty, and in
general such things as in their customary moods they had
not felt and did not know that they could have felt.

Even the young and unfledged physician, Laskowicz,
notwithstanding all his prejudices, could not resist this
influence. The moment when Marynia stood up to play,

36 WHIRLPOOLS.

he began to scrutinize her from his dark corner in the
salon and examine her form as an anatomist. He was
conscious that there was something brutal in this, but such
a viewpoint gave him satisfaction, as being proper for an
investigator and a man of his convictions. He started to
persuade himself that this young lady of the so called
higher spheres was for him merely an object which one
should examine in the same manner as a corpse on the
dissecting-table is examined. So, when tuning her violin,
she bent her head, he took a mental inventory of the Latin
names of all her cranial bon^s, repelling the thought which,
against his will, rushed to his head that this was, however,
an extraordinarily noble skull. Afterwards, during the
first moments after the beginning of the concert, he be-
came occupied with the nomenclature of the muscles of
Ler hands, arms, breast, limbs, outlined under her dress
and whole figure. But as he was not only a medical stu-
dent and a socialist, but also a young man, this anatomical
review ended in the conclusion that this was a girl, not yet
sufficiently developed, but exceedingly pretty and attrac-
tive, resembling a spring flower. From that moment he
began, to a certain extent, to forgive her connection with
spheres living "from the wrongs of the proletariat/' and
could not get rid of the thought that if, as a result of
some unheard-of social upheaval, such "a saintly doll"
became dependent upon his favor or disfavor, then such
a state of affairs would bring to him an indescribably coy
delight.

But when Beethoven placed his hands upon his head,
there awakened within him better and higher instincts.
He saw during the performance the lips and eyebrows of
the young lady contract, and began to concede that "she,
however, felt something." In consequence of this, his ill-
will towards her began to melt away, although slowly and
with difficulty. He half confirmed, half conjectured that

WHIRLPOOLS. 37

not only the hands but also the soul played. He did not
have sufficient culture for music to appeal to him as it
did, for instance, to Gronski, nevertheless there awakened
within him a certain dismal consciousness that this was
something, like the air, which all breasts can breathe, re-
gardless of whether they love or hate. Amazement seized
him at the thought that there were things lying beyond
the swarm of human passions. At the conclusion he so
identified music with the figure of the playing girl that
when the old notary, at the end of the concert, kissed her
hands, he almost felt inclined to do the same.

In the meanwhile, Ladislaus said to Miss Anney:

"As long as Jastrzeb has been Jastrzeb, never yet has
such music been heard. I am not a connoisseur, but must
admit that this has captivated me. Besides, though I am
often in the city, it has always so happened that I never
have had an opportunity of seeing a woman play on the
violin. And this is so beautiful that I now have an impres-
sion that only women should play the violin."

"One gets such an impression when he hears Marynia
play."

"Assuredly. I even begin to understand Pan Gronski.
You, of course, know that she is his adoration ? "

"The greatest in the world. And mine and everybody's
who knows her, — and soon she will be yours."

"I do not deny that she will be, only I doubt whether
she will be the greatest."

A temporary pause in the conversation followed, after
which Ladislaus, not desiring that Miss Anney should
take his words as an untimely compliment, added:

"In any event, I owe her gratitude for music which is
slightly different from that which we hear every evening
in spring and summer."

"What kind of music is that?"

"From dusk to moon-rise the orchestra of frogs, and

38 WHIRLPOOLS.

afterwards the concert of nightingales, which, after all, I
do not hear, as, after daily toil, I am sound asleep. The
frog band has already commenced. This also has its
charm. If you care to hear it, let us go out upon the
veranda. The night is almost as warm as in summer."

Miss Anney rose and together they went on the veranda,
which the servants, who listened under the windows to
Marynia's performance, had already left, and only in the
distance the blooming jasmines, shaded by the dusk,
whitened. From the pond came the croakings of the con-
federation of frogs, drowsy a^id, at the same time, resem-
bling choral prayers.

Miss Anney for a while listened to these sounds and
afterwards said:

"Yes, this also has its charm, particularly on a night
like this."

"Are not nights the same in England?"

"No, not as quiet. There is hardly a corner there to
which the whistling of locomotives or the factory noises
do not reach. I like your villages for their quiet and their
distance from the cities."

"So, then, this is not the first time that you have seen a
Polish village?"

"No. I have passed the last month with Zosia Otocka."

"I wish that our Jastrzeb would find favor in your eyes.
It is too bad that you chanced here upon a funeral. That
is always sad. I saw that you were even affected."

"It reminded me of something," answered Miss Anney.

Whereupon, evidently desiring to change the subject
of the conversation, she again began to peer into the depths
of the garden.

"How everything blooms and smells agreeably here!"

"Those are jasmines and elders. Did you observe on
the forest road, riding to Jastrzeb, that the edges of the
woods are planted with elders ? That is my work."

WHIRLPOOLS. 39

"I only observed it at the bridge, where an old building
stands. What kind of building is that?"

"That is an ancient mill. At one time there was a great
deal of water in the stream beside it, but later my uncle,
Zarnowski, drained it off to the fish-ponds in Rzeslewo
and the mill stood still. Now it is a ramshackle building
in which for over ten years we have stored hay instead of
keeping it in hayricks. Folks say that the place is haunted,
but I myself circulated, in its time, that myth."

"Why?"

"First, so that they should not steal the hay, and again
because it was of much concern to me that no one should
pry in there."

"What an invention!"

"I told them that near the bridge during night-time the
horses get frightened and that something in the mill
laughs; which is true, because owls laugh there."

"Perhaps it would have been better to have told them
that something in there weeps."

"Why?"

"For greater effect."

"I do not know. Laughter in the night in the solitude
creates a greater impression. People fear it more."

"And nobody peeps in there?"

"Not a soul. Now, if they only would not steal
the hay, it would be all the same to me, but at that
time I was anxious to screen myself from the eyes of
men — "

Here Ladislaus bit his tongue, observing in the moon-
lignt that Miss Anney's eyebrows frowned slightly. He
understood that in repeating twice that it was important
to him that no one shoulo? pry into the mill, he committed
a breach of etiquette and, what was worse, had presented
himself to the young English lady as some provincial
boaster, who gives the impression that often he has been

40 WHIRLPOOLS.

forced to seek various hiding-places. So desiring to erase
the bad impression, he added quickly :

"When a student, I wrote verses and for that reason
sought solitude. But now all that has passed away."

"That usually passes away," answered Miss Anney.
And she turned to the doors of the salon, but without un-
necessary haste, as if she desired to show Ladislaus that
she accepted as good coin his explanations and that her
return was not a manifestation of displeasure. He
remained a while, angry at himself and yet more angry at
Miss Anney for the simple reason that the indiscretion was
committed solely by him and he could not blame her for
anything.

"In any case," he said to himself, "that is some deucedly
penetrating Puritan."

And he began to repeat, with some indignation, her last
words:

"That usually passes away."

"Did she," he thought, "intend to give me to under-
stand that from such grist as is in me nobody could bake
any poetry. Perhaps it is true, and I know that better than
anyone else, but it is unnecessary for anybody to corrobo-
rate the fact."

Under the influence of these thoughts he returned to the
salon in not quite good humor, but there the duties of
host summoned him to his feminine cousins and that
evening he did not converse any more with Miss Anney.

WHIRLPOOLS. 41

VI

THE notary left the same night because his official duties
required his presence in the city the following morning.
On the day after, Gronski, whom Pani Otocka requested
to act as her representative, with Ladislaus and Dolhanski
departed for the notarial bureau. All three were troubled
and curious about the will, of which the notary did not
drop a single hint. Dolhanski feigned a jocose mien and
displayed more sangfroid than he really possessed. He was
most anxious that something should "drop off" for him.
He was a man who had squandered a large fortune, but,
not having changed his habits, kept on living as if he had
not lost anything. Therefore he sustained himself upon
the surface of life by the aid of extraordinary, almost
acrobatic, efforts, of which after all he made no secret. In
general, he was a sponger and possessed a million faults,
but also certain social qualities for which he was esteemed.
Belonging to an aristocratic club, he played cards with un-
usual good luck, but irreproachably. He never borrowed
money from people in his own sphere ; never gossiped, and
was a tolerably loyal friend. Lack of education he supplied
with cleverness and a certain intellectual grasp. He
jested about himself, but it was unsafe to jest at him,
because he possessed, besides wit, a certain candor which
bordered upon cynicism. So he was not only countenanced
but willingly received. Gronski, for whom Dolhanski had
such high regard that he permitted him alone to jest about
him, said that if Dolhanski only had as great a gift of
making money as he had of spending it, he would have
been a millionaire.

42 WHIRLPOOLS.

But while waiting for such a change, heavy moments
fell upon Dolhanski, particularly in spring when the play
at the club slackened or when the outing season began.
Then he felt fatigued after the winter struggles and sighed
for something to turn up which would not require any
labor. The will of Zarnowski might be such a gratuity,
although Dolhanski did not expect much, as during the
lifetime of the deceased he did nothing to deserve it. He
even frankly repeated that his precious uncle bored him.
He reckoned, however, that something might be sliced off
for him ; enough for the temporary pacification of his
creditors or, better still, for a trip to a fashionable, aristo-
cratic French seaside resort.

Before leaving Warsaw he announced in the club that
he would return sitting upon a pillow stuffed with pawn-
tickets. At present he attempted, with a certain affected
humor, to convince Gronski and Ladislaus that by rights
neither Pani Otocka with her sister, nor the Krzyckis, but
himself ought to be the chief beneficiary.

"One of the female cousins," he said, "is a warm widow,
who has a fat fortune from her husband, and the other is a
budding muse, who ought to be satisfied with ambrosia.
What a pity, that I am not the sole relative of the
deceased ! "

Here he addressed Ladislaus:

"The Krzyckis, I think, need not be considered, because
you have had, as I heard, a dispute about the Rzeslewo
boundary. I hope that you will not get anything."

"What is the use of your hoping?" said Gronski.
"Limit, above all things, your wants."

"You remind me of my lamented father," answered
Dolhanski.

"He certainly must have repeated that to you often."

"Too often, and besides, he set himself up as an example,
but I demonstrated to him, as plainly as two times two are

WHIRLPOOLS. 43

four, that I could and ought to live on a higher scale than
he."

"What did you tell him?"

"I spoke to him thus: Firstly, Papa has a son, while I
am childless, and again, I am a better noble than he."

"In what respect?"

" Very plainly, since I can count one generation more in
my line of nobility."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Krzycki. "What did your father
say to that?"

"He called me a dunce, but I saw he was pleased with
it. Ah, if my conceits would only please Pani Otocka as
they once did Papa. But I am convinced that my constancy
and my appetite will avail me naught. My dear cousin is
after all more practical than she seems. You would
imagine that both sisters live only on the fragrance of
flowers ; and yet when they learned of a possible inheritance,
they hastily arrived at Jastrzeb."

"I can assure you that you are mistaken. Mother
invited them last year while in Krynica and now, at least
a week before the death of Uncle Zarnowski, she reminded
them of their promise. They wrote back that they could
not come because they had a guest. Then mother invited
the guest also."

"If that is so, it is different. Now, not only do I under-
stand your mother, but as you are a shapely youth and,
in addition, younger than myself, I begin to fear for
Cousin Otocka's fortune, which more justly belongs to
me."

" You need have no fear," answered Krzycki drily.

"Does that mean that you prefer pounds to roubles?
Considering the rate of exchange, I would prefer them
also, but I fear that too many of them might have sunk in
the Channel on the way from England."

"If you are so much concerned about that," said Gronski,

44 WHIRLPOOLS.

"you might ask Miss Armey about the precise amount.
She is so sincere that she will reply to a certainty."
"Yes, but it is necessary that I should believe her."
"If you knew a little of human nature, you ought to
believe her."

"In any case, I would fear a misunderstanding; for if
she answered me in Polish, she could make a mistake,
and if in English, I might not understand her perfectly."
"She speaks better Polish than you do English."
"I admit that this astonishes me. Whence?"
"Haven't I told you," answered Gronski, with some
impatience, " that she was taught from childhood, because
her father was an Englishman who had great sympathy
for the Poles?"

"De gustibus non est disputandem," answered Dol-
hanski.

And afterwards he again began to speak of the deceased
and of the old notary, mimicking the movements of his
toothless jaws and the fury of his look; and finally he an-
nounced that if something was not "sliced off" for him he
would either shoot himself upon Pani Otocka's threshold
or else would drive over to Gorek and offer himself for the
hand of Panna Wlocek.

But Gronski was buried in thought about something
else during the time of this idle talk, while Ladislaus heard
him distractedly as his attention was attracted by the con-
siderable number of peasant carts which they were con-
tinually passing by. Supposing that he had forgotten
some market-day in the city, he turned to his coachman.

"Andrew," he asked, "why are there so many carts on
the road to the city?"

"Ah, those, please your honor, are Rzeslewo peasants."
"Rzeslewo? What have they to do there?"
"Ah I please your honor, on account of the will of the
deceased Pan Zarnowski; it is to give them Rzeslewo."

WHIRLPOOLS. 45

Krzycki turned to Gronski.

"I heard," he said, "that somebody circulated among
them such a story, but did not think that they would
believe it."

And afterwards again to the coachman :

"Who told them that?"

The old driver hesitated somewhat in his reply:

"The people gossip that it was the Tutor."

Ladislaus began to laugh.

"Oh, stupid peasants!" he said. "Why, he never in
his life saw Pan Zarnowski. How would he know about
the will?"

But after a moment of meditation he said, partly to his
companions and partly to himself:

"Everything must have some object, so if Laskowicz
did that, let some one explain to me why he did it."

"Do you suspect him of it?" asked Gronski.

"I do not know, for heretofore I had assumed that one
could be a socialist and keep his wits in order."

"Ah, so he is a bird of that nest? Tell me how long
has he been with you and what manner of a man is he?"

"He has been with us half a year. We needed an
instructor for Stas and some one recommended him to us.
We were informed that he would have to leave Warsaw for
a certain tune to elude the police and, in fact, for that reason
received him more eagerly, thinking that some patriotic
matter was involved. Later, when it appeared that he
was of an entirely different calibre, mother would not per-
mit his dismissal in hope that she might convert him. At
the beginning she had lengthy heart-to-heart talks with
him and requested me to be friendly with him. We
treated him as a member of the family, but the result has
been such that he hates us, not only as people belonging to
a sphere which he envies, but also, as it seems, individually."

"It is evident," said Dolhanski, "he holds it evil of you

46 WHIRLPOOLS.

that you are not such as he imagined you would be ; neither
so wicked nor so stupid. And you may rest assured that
he will never forgive that in you."

"That may be so. In any case, he will shortly despise
us from a distance, for after a month we part. I under-
stand that one can and ought to tolerate all convictions,
but there is something in him, besides his principles and
hatreds, which is so conflicting with all our customs, and
something so strange that we have had enough of him."

"My Laudie," answered Dolhanski, "do not neces-
sarily apply this to yoursejf, for I speak generally, but
since you have mentioned toleration, I will tell you that
in my opinion toleration in Poland was and is nothing else
than downright stupidity, and monumental stupidity at
that."

"In certain respects Dolhanski is right," answered
Gronski. "It may be that in the course of our history we
tolerated various ideas and elements not only through
magnanimous forbearance, but also because in our in-
dolence we did not care to contend with them."

To this Ladislaus, who did not like to engage in general
argumentation, said:

"That is all right, but all that does not explain why
Laskowicz should spread among the peasants the news
that Uncle Zarnowski devised Rzeslewo to them."

"There is, as yet, no certainty that he did," answered
Gronski. "We will very soon learn the truth at the
notary's."

WHIRLPOOLS. 47

VII

THE hour was five in the afternoon. The ladies sat on the
veranda, at tea, when the young men returned from the
city. Miss Anney rose when they appeared and, not wish-
ing to be present, as a stranger, at the family conversation,
left on some pretext for her room. Pani Krzycki greeted
them with slightly affected calm, because in reality the
thought of the will did not leave her for a moment. She
was not greedier than the generality of common mortals,
but she was immensely concerned that, after her demise,
at the distribution of the estate, Ladislaus should have
enough to pay off the younger members of the family and
to sustain himself at Jastrzeb. And some respectable
bequest would in a remarkable manner facilitate the
making of such payments. Besides, at the bottom of the
noble soul of Pani Krzycki there lay hidden the faith that
Providence owed, to a certain extent, greater obligations to
the Krzycki family than to any ordinary family. For that
reason, even if the whole of Rzeslewo fell to the lot of
that family, she would with readiness and willingness sub-
mit to such a decree of Providence. Finally, descending
from the blood of a people who in certain cases can
sacrifice fortune, but love extraordinarily to acquire it
without any effort, she fondled all day the thought that
such an easy acquisition was about to occur.

But in the countenances of Ladislaus and Gronski she
could at once discern that they brought specific intelli-
gence. Dolhanski, who was the first to alight from the
carriage, was the first to begin the report.

"I anticipate the question, what is the news?" he said.

48 WHIRLPOOLS.

drawling his expressions with cold irony, "and I answer
everything is for the best, for the Rzeslewo Mats and
Jacks will have something with which they can travel
to Carlsbad."

Pani Krzycki grew somewhat pale and, turning to Gron-
ski, asked:

"What, in truth, gentlemen, have you brought with
you?"

"The will in its provisions is peculiar," answered
Gronski, "but was executed in a noble spirit. Rzeslewo
is devised for a peasants'* agricultural school and the
interest of the funds is to be devoted to sending the pupils
of the school, who have finished their courses, for a year's
or two years' practice in country husbandry in Bohemia."

"Or, as I stated, to Carlsbad, Marienbad, Teplitz, and
other places of the same character," explained Dolhanski.

A moment of silence followed. Marynia, who was pour-
ing the tea, began, with teapot in hand, to gaze with inquiring
look at those present, desiring evidently to unriddle whether
they praised or condemned it and whether it gave them
.pleasure or annoyance. Pani Otocka looked at Gronski
with eyes which evinced delight; while Pani Krzycki
leaned with both hands upon the cane which she used
owing to rheumatism in her limbs, and after a certain tune
asked in a slightly hoarse voice:

"So, it is for a public purpose?"

"Yes," answered Gronski, "the organization of the
school and afterwards the division of the funds for the
stay in Bohemia is to be assumed by a special Directory of
the Trust Society of this province, and the designated
curator of the school is Laudie."

"Too bad it is not I," interposed Dolhanski. "I would
arrange it very quickly."

"There are specific bequests," continued Gronski,
"and these are very strange. He bequeaths various small

WHIRLPOOLS. 49

sums to the household servants and ten thousand roubles
to some Skibianka, daughter of a blacksmith at the
Rzeslewo manor, who in his time emigrated to America."

" Skibianka 1" repeated Pani Krzycki with astonish-
ment.

Dolhanski bit off the ends of his mustache, smiled, and
started to grumble that the nobility was always distin-
guished for its love of the common people, but Gronski
looked at him severely; after which he drew from his
pocket a memorandum and said:

"That provision of the will is worded as follows:
Whereas the parents of Hanka Skiba or Skibianka emi-
grated during my sojourn abroad for medical treatment,
and I have not had the opportunity of ascertaining
where they can be found, therefore I obligate my relative,
Ladislaus Krzycki, to cause to be published in all the
Polish newspapers printed in the United States and in
Parana, advertisements. If the said legatee does not
within two years appear to receive the bequest, the entire
sum with interest becomes the property of the said Ladis-
laus Krzycki."

"And I already have announced that I do not intend
to accept that specific bequest," cried the young man
excitedly.

All eyes were turned toward him ; he added :

"I would not think of it; I would not think of it."

"Why not?" asked his mother after a while.

"Because I cannot. Let us suppose that the legatee
appears, say for instance, within three years instead of
two, what would happen? Would I pocket the bequest
and drive her away ? No ! I could not do that. Finally,
there are other considerations of which I do not wish to
speak."

In fact, only by these "other considerations," could
such a considerable bequest to a simple village girl be

4

50 WHIRLPOOLS.

explained; therefore Pani Krzycki became silent. After
a while she said:

"My Laudie, nobody will coerce, nor even try to per-
suade you to accept."

But Dolhanski asked:

" Tell me, is this some mythical disinterestedness or is it
ill humor caused by your not receiving a greater bequest ?"

"Do not judge by yourself," answered Krzycki; "but I
will tell you something which you certainly will not be-
lieve ; since this estate is to be devoted to such an object
as a peasants' agricultural school, I am highly delighted
and have much greater esteem for the deceased. I give
you my word that I speak with entire sincerity."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Pani Otocka, "it is pleasant to
hear that."

Pani Krzycki looked with pride first upon her son, then
upon Pani Otocka; and, though a feeling of disappoint-
ment lingered in her heart, said:

"Well, let there be a peasants' school, if only our Jastrzeb
peasants will be permitted to send their sons to it."

"That does not admit of any doubt," explained Gronski.
"There will be as many pupils as accommodations can be
provided for. They may come from all parts, though pref-
erence is to be given to Rzeslewo peasants."

"What do they say about the bequest?"

"There were more than a dozen of them at the opening
of the will, as they expected a direct gift of all the manor
lands to them. Somebody had persuaded them that the
deceased left everything to them to be equally divided.
So they left very much displeased. We heard them say
that this was not the genuine will and that they do not
need any schools."

"Most fully do I share their opinion," said Dolhanski,
"and in this instance, contrary to my nature, I will speak
seriously. For at present there is raging an epidemic of

WHIRLPOOLS. 51

founding schools and no one asks for whom, for what,
how are they to be taught in them, and what is the end to
be attained. I belong to that species of birds who do not
toil, but look at everything, if not from the top, then from
the side, and, perhaps for that very reason, see things which
others do not observe. So, at times, I have an impression
that we are like those children, for instance, at Ostend,
who build on the sea-shore forts with the sand. Every
day on the beach they erect them and every day the waves
wash them away until not a trace of them remains."

"In a way you are right," said Gronski; "but there,
however, is this difference: the children build joyfully
and we do not."

Afterwards he meditated and added:

"However, the law of nature is such that children grow
while the adults rear dykes, not of sand, but of stone upon
which the waves dash to pieces."

"Let them be dashed to pieces as quickly as possible,"
exclaimed Ladislaus.

But Dolhanski would not concede defeat.

"Permit me then," he said, "since we have not yet grown
up and have not yet started to build of stone, to remain a
pessimist."

Gronski gazed for a while into the depths of the garden
like a man who was pondering over something and then
said:

" Pessimism — pessimism ! We hear that incessantly
nowadays. But in the meanwhile if there exists anything
more stupid than optimism, which often passes for folly,
it is particularly pessimism, which desires to pose as
reason."

Dolhanski smiled a trifle biliously and, turning to the
ladies, said, pointing to Gronski :

"Do not take this ill of him, ladies. It often happens
for him in moments of abstraction to utter impertinences.

52 WHIRLPOOLS.

He is a good — even intelligent — man, but has the unbear-
able habit of turning over everything, examining it from all
sides, pondering over it, and soliloquizing.'*

But Marynia suddenly flushed with indignation in de-
fence of her friend and, shaking the teapot which at that
moment she held in her hand, began to speak with great
ardor:

"That is just right, that is just sensible; that is what
everybody ought to do — "

Dolhanski pretended to be awe-stricken and, bowing his
head, cried: *

"I am vanquished; I retreat and surrender arms."

Gronski, laughing, kissed her hand, while she, abashed
at her own vehemence and covered with blushes, began to
ask:

" Is it not the truth ? Am I not right ?"

But Dolhanski already recovered his presence of mind.

"That does not prove anything," he said.

"Why?"

"Because Gronski once promulgated this aphorism:
It is never proper to follow the views of a woman, especially
if by accident she is right."

"I?" exclaimed Gronski. "Untangle yourself from me.
I never said anything like that. Do not believe him,
ladies."

"I believe only you, sir," answered Marynia.

But further conversation was interrupted by Pani
Krzycki, who observed that it was time for the May mass.
In the Jastrzeb manor-house, there was a room especially
assigned for that purpose and known as the chapel. At
the main wall, opposite the windows, stood an altar with
a painting of the Divine Mother of Czestochowo. The
walls, altar, painting, and even the candles were decorated
with green garlands. On the side tables stood bouquets
of elders and jasmines whose fragrance filled the entire

WHIRLPOOLS. 53

room. Sometimes, when the rector of Rzeslewo arrived,
he conducted the services; in his absence the lady of the
house. All the inmates of the house, with the exception
of Laskowicz, during the entire month of May met every
evening in the chapel. At present the gentlemen followed
the ladies. On the way Ladislaus asked Gronski:

"Is Miss Anney a Catholic?"

"To tell you the truth, I do not know," answered
Gronski, "but it seems — but look, she is entering also.
So she must be a Catholic. Perhaps her name is Irish."

In the chapel the candles were already lit, though the
sun had not entirely set and stood in the windows, low,
golden, and ruddy, casting a lustre on the white cloth
which covered the altar and on the heads of the women.
At the very altar the lady of the house knelt, behind
her the lady visitors ; after them the female servants and
the old asthmatic lackey, while the gentlemen stood at
the wall between the windows. The customary songs,
prayers, and litanies began. Their sweetness struck
Gronski. There was in them something of spring and at
the same time of the evening. The impression of the
spring was created by the flowers, and of the evening by
ruddy lustre entering through the windows, and the soft
voices of the women who, repeating the choral words of
the litanies, reminded one of the last chirp of birds, sub-
siding before the setting of the sun. "Healer of the sick,
Refuge of sinners, Comforter of the afflicted," repeated
Pani Krzycki; and those soft, subdued voices responded,
"Pray for us," — and thus did that country home pray
on that May evening. Gronski, who was a sceptic, but
not an atheist, like a man of high culture, at first felt the
aesthetic side of this childlike "good-night" borne by these
women to a benign deity. Afterwards, as if desiring to
corroborate the truth of Dolhanski's assertion that he was
wont to turn over every subject on every side and to ponder

54 WHIRLPOOLS.

over every phenomenon, he began to meditate upon re-
ligious manifestations. It occurred to him that this hom-
age rendered to a deity was an element purely ideal, pos-
sessed solely by humanity. He recalled that as often as
he happened to be in church and saw people praying, so
often was he struck by the unfathomable chasm which
separates the world of man from the animal world. As a
matter of fact, religious conceptions can only be formed
by higher and more perfect organisms ; therefore he drew
the conclusion that if there existed beings ten times more
intelligent than mankind, Jfrey would, in their own way,
be ten times more religious. "Yes, but in their own way,"
Gronski repeated, "which perhaps might be very different."
His spiritual drama (and he often thought that there were
many people like him) was this: that the Absolute ap-
peared to him as an abyss, as some synthetic law of all the
laws of existence. Thus he presumed that according to
a degree of mental development it was impossible to
imagine that law in the form of the kindly old man or in
the eye on the radiant triangle, unless one takes matters
symbolically and assumes that the old man and the eye
express the all-basis of existence, as the horizontally drawn
eight denotes infinity. But in such case what will this all-
basis be for him ? Always night, always an abyss, always
something inscrutable; barely to be felt by some dull
sensation and not by any clear perception, from whose
power can be understood the phenomenon of existence
and an answer be made to the various whys and where-
fores. "Mankind," mused Gronski, "possesses at the
same time too much and too little intelligence. For, after
all, to simply believe one must unreservedly shut the
blinds of his intellectual windows and not permit himself
to peer through them; and when he does open them he
discovers only a starless night." For this reason he en-
vied those middle-aged persons, whose intelligence reared

WHIRLPOOLS. 55

mentally edifices upon unshaken dogmas, just as light-
houses are built upon rocks in the sea. Dante could
master the whole field of knowledge of his time and
yet, notwithstanding this, could traverse hell, purgatory,
and paradise. The modern man of learning could not
travel thus, for if he wished to pass in thought beyond
the world of material phenomenon, he would see that
which we behold in Wuertz's well-known painting, a de-
capitated head; that is, some element so undefined that
it is equivalent to nothing.

But the tragedy, according to Gronski, lay not only in
the inscrutability of the Absolute, in the impossibility of
understanding His laws, but also in the impossibility
of agreeing on them and acknowledging them from the
view point of human life. There exist, of course, evil and
woe. The Old Testament explains them easily by the
state of almost continual rage of its Jah. "Domine ne in
furore tuo arguas me, neque in ira tua corripias me/ 'and
afterwards "saggittae tuae infixae sunt mihi et confirmasti
super me manuo tuum." And once having accepted this
blind fury and this "strengthening of the right hand," it
is easy to explain to one's self in a simple manner mis-
fortune. But already in the Old Testament, Ecclesiastes
doubts whether everything in the world is in order. The
New Testament sees evil in matter in contraposition to
the soul ; and that is clear. However, viewing the matter,
in the abstract, as everything is a close chain of cause and
effect, therefore everything is logical, and being logical
it cannot per se be either evil or good, but may appear
propitious or unfavorable in its relation to man. Besides,
that which we call evil or misfortune may, according to
the absolute laws of existence, and in its profundity, be
wise and essential principles of development, which are
beyond human comprehension, and therefore something
which in itself is an advantageous phenomenon.

56 WHIRLPOOLS.

Yes, but in such case, whence does man derive the
power to oppose his individual thoughts and his concrete
conceptions to this universal logic? If everything is a
delusion, why is the human mind a force, existing, as it
were, outside of the general laws of existence? There is
this something, unprecedented and at the same time
tragical, that man must be subjected to these laws and can
protest against them. On earth spiritual peace was en-
joyed only by the gods, and is now only by animals. Man
is eternally struggling and crying veto, and such a veto is
every human tear. ^

And here Gronski's thoughts assumed a more personal
aspect. He began to look at the praying Marynia and at
first experienced relief. There came to his mind the
purely aesthetic observation that Carpaccio might have
placed such a maiden beside his guitar-player and Boti-
celli should have foreseen her. But immediately after-
wards he thought that even such a flower must wither,
and nothing withers or dies without pain. Suddenly he
was seized with a fear of the future, which in her travel-
ing-pouch carries concealed evil and woe. He recalled,
indeed, the aphorism which he had uttered, a short time
before, about pessimism; but that gave him no comfort,
because he understood that the pessimism which flowed
from the exertions of the intellect is different from the
worldling's pessimism which Dolhanski, by shrugging his
shoulders at everything, permitted himself to indulge in
when free from card-playing. He moreover propounded
to himself the question whether that debilitating pessi-
mism could in any manner be well founded, and here
unexpectedly there stood before his eyes another friend,
entirely different from Dolhanski, though also a sceptic
and hedonist, — Doctor Parebski. He was a college-mate
of Gronski and in later years had treated him for a nerv-
ous ailment; therefore he knew him perfectly. Once,

WHIRLPOOLS. 57

after listening to his various reflections and complaints
about the impossibility of finding a solution of the para-
mount questions of life, Doctor Parebski said to him:
"That is a pastime for which time and means are neces-
sary. If you had to work for your bread as I have, you
would not upset your own mind and the minds of others.
All that reminds me of a dog chasing his own tail. And
I tell you, look at that which environs you and not at your
own navel; and if you want to be well, then — carpe
diem!" Gronski at that time deemed these words some-
what brutal and more in the nature of medical than philo-
sophical advice, but now when he recalled them he said
to himself: "In truth the road on which, as if from bad
habit, I am continually entering leads to nowhere; and
who knows whether these women praying this moment
with such faith are not, without question, more sensible
than I am, not to say more at ease and happier? "

In the meantime Pani Kryzcki began to speak: "Under
Thy protection we flee, Holy Mother of God/' and the
women's voices immediately responded: "Our entreaties
deign not to spurn and from all evil deign to preserve us
forever." Gronski was swept by an intense longing for
such a sweet, tutelary divinity who does not deign to scorn
entreaties and who delivers us from evil. How well it
would be with him if he could enjoy such peace of mind,
and how simple the thought! Unfortunately he already
had strayed too far away. He could, like women, yearn,
but, unlike them, he could not believe.

Gronski mentally reviewed the whole array of his ac-
quaintances and noted that those who fervently believed,
in the depths of their souls, were very few in number.
Some there were who did not believe at all; others who
wanted to believe and could not; some acknowledged
from social considerations the necessity of faith, and
finally there were those who were simply occupied with

58 WHIRLPOOLS.

something else. To this latter category belonged men
who, for instance, observed the custom of attending mass
as they did the habit of eating breakfast every morn-
ing, or of donning a dress-coat each evening or wearing
gloves. Through habit it entered into the texture of their
lives. Here Gronski unwillingly glanced at Ladislaus,
for it seemed to him that the young man was a bird from
that grove.

Such, in fact, was the case. Krzycki, however, was
neither a dull nor thoughtless person. At the university
he, like others, philosophized a little, but afterwards the
current of his life carried him in another direction. There
existed, indeed, beside Jastrzeb and the daily affairs con-
nected therewith, other matters which deeply interested
him. He was sincerely concerned about his native land,
her future, the events which might affect her destiny, and
finally — women and love. But upon faith he reflected
as much as he did upon death, upon which he did not re-
flect at all, as if he was of the opinion that it was improper
to think of them, since they in the proper time will not
forget anybody.

At present, moreover, owing to the guests, he was more
than a hundred miles from thinking of such questions.
At one time, while yet a student, when during vacation
time he drove over with his mother to Rzeslewo to attend
high mass, he cherished in the depths of his soul the poeti-
cal hope that some Sunday the rattle of a carriage would
resound without the church doors and a young and charm-
ing princess, journeying from somewhere beyond the
Baltic to Kiev, would enter the church; that he would
invite her to Jastrzeb and later fall in love with her and
marry her. And now here unexpectedly those youthful
dreams were in some measure realized, for to Jastrzeb
there came not one but three princesses of whom he could
dream as much as he pleased, for behold, they were now

WHIRLPOOLS. 59

kneeling before the family altar, absorbed in prayer. He
began to gaze — now at Pani Otocka and then at the
form of Marynia, which resembled a Tanagra figurine,
and repeated to himself: "Mother desires to give one of
them to me as a wife." And he had nothing against the
idea, but thought of Pani Otocka, "That is a book which
somebody has already read, while the other is a fledgeling
who can play a violin." Ladislaus was of the age which
does not take into calculation any woman under twenty
years. After a while, as if unwillingly, he directed his
eyes towards Miss Anney, — unwillingly because she
formed the most luminous object in the room, for the set-
ting sun, falling upon her light hair, saturated it with
such lustre that the whole head appeared aflame. Miss
Anney from time to time raised her hand and shaded her
head with it as if she desired to extinguish the lustre, but
as the rays each moment became less warm, she finally,
discontinued the action. At times she was hidden from
view by the figure of some dark-haired girl, whom Ladis-
laus did not know, but who, he surmised, must be a ser-
vant of one of these ladies. Towards the close of the
services the girl bowed so low that she no longer obscured
the view of the light hair or the young and powerful
shoulders.

"That," he said to himself, "would be the greatest
temptation, but mother would be opposed, as she is a
foreigner."

But suddenly, as if to rebuke his conscience, there came
to his memory the pensive eyes and slender shoulders of
Panna Stabrowska. Ah ! if only Rzeslewo and the funds
had fallen to his lot! But uncle bequeathed Rzeslewo
for educational purposes and the funds for trips to Carlsbad
by the Mats, as Dolhanski had said, and a few thousand
for Hanka Skibianka. At this recollection his brow clouded
and he drew his hand across his forehead.

60 WHIRLPOOLS.

" I unnecessarily became excited before mother and the
ladies," he said to himself, "but I must explain this
matter to Gronski."

Accordingly, at the close of the mass, he turned to
him:

"I want to speak with you about various matters, but
only in four eyes. Is that satisfactory ? "

"All right/' answered Gronski, "when?"

" Not to-day, for I must first go to Rzeslewo to question
the men, look over the estate, and then attend to the guests.
It will be best to-morrow evening or the day after. We
will take our rifles with us and go to the woods. Now
there is a flight of woodcocks. Dolhanski does not hunt,
so we will leave him with the ladies."

"All right," repeated Gronski.

WHIRLPOOLS. 61

VIII

THE very next day, towards evening, they strolled with
their rifles and a dog in the direction of the mill, and on
the way Ladislaus began to narrate all that he had learned
the previous day.

"I was in Rzeslewo," he said, "but there you hear
nothing good. The peasants insist that the will was forged
and that the gentry twisted it about so that they could
control, for their own benefit, the money and the lands.
I am almost certain that Laskowicz is pouring oil upon
that fire. But why? I cannot understand; neverthe-
less, that is the case. The landless, in particular, are
wrought up and say that if the fortune is divided among
them, they, themselves, will contribute for a school. In
reality, they have no conception of the kind of school Zar-
nowski wanted, nor of the cost of establishing it."

"In view of this, what do you intend to do?" asked
Gronski.

"I do not know. I will see. In the meantime I will try
to convince them. I also begged the rector to explain the
matter to them and spoke with a few of the older husband-
men. I seemed to have persuaded them; but unfortu-
nately with them it is thus : that everyone, taken singly, is
intelligent and even sensible, but when you talk to them
together, it is like trying to smash a stone wall with your
head."

"That is nothing strange/' answered Gronski; "take
ten thousand doctors of philosophy together and they
become a mob which is ruled by gesticulations."

"That may be," said Ladislaus, "but I did not wish to

62 WHIRLPOOLS.

speak of the will only. I also saw the old Rzeslewo overseer
and learned a great many, intensely curious things. Figure
to yourself that our guesses v/ere wrong and that Hanka
Skibianka is not the daughter of Uncle Zarnowski."

"And that seemed so certain! But what kind of proof
have you of this?"

"Very simple. Skiba was a native of Galicia and
emigrated to Rzeslewo with his wife and daughter when
the latter was five years old. As Zarnowski, while well,
stayed in the village like a wall, and at that time for at
least ten years had not travelled anywhere, it is evident
that he could not have been the father of that girl."

"That decides the matter. I cannot understand why
he bequeathed to her ten thousand roubles."

"There is an interesting history connected with that,"
replied Ladislaus. "You must know that the deceased,
though now it appears that he loved the peasants, always
kept them under very strict control. He managed them
according to the old system ; that is, he abused them from
morning till night. They say that when he cursed in the
corridor you could hear him over half the village. A cer-
tain day he went into the blacksmith's shop and, finding
something out of order, began to berate the blacksmith
unmercifully. The smith bowed and listened in humility.
It happened that little Hanka at that time was in front
of the smithy and, seeing what was taking place, seized a
little stick and started to belabor Zarnowski with it all
over the legs. 'You will scold Tata, will you?' It is
said that the deceased at first was dumbfounded, but after-
wards burst into such laughter that his anger against the
blacksmith passed away."

"That Hanka pleases me."

"So did she please Uncle. The very same day he sent
a rouble to the smith's wife and ordered her to bring the
child to the manor-house. From that tune he became

WHIRLPOOLS. 63

attached to her. He commanded the old housekeeper to
teach her to read, and attended to it himself. The child
likewise became devoted to him, and this continued for a
number of years. In the end people began to say that the
master wanted to keep the smith's daughter entirely at
his residence and have her educated as a lady, but this, it
seems, was untrue. He wanted to bring her up as a stout
village lass and give her a dowry. The Skibas, whose only
child she was, declared that they would not surrender her
for anything in the world. Of course, I know only what
the overseer told me, for our relations with the deceased
were broken on account of the mill from which he drained
the water for his ponds."

"And later the Skibas emigrated."

"Yes, but before that time Zarnowski began to fail in
health and moved to Warsaw, and subsequently resided
abroad ; so that their relations relaxed. When the Skibas
emigrated, the girl was seventeen. Uncle, on his return to
Rzeslewo to die, longed for her and waited for some news
of her. But as he had previously removed even his furni-
ture from Rzeslewo to the city, she evidently assumed that
he never would return and did not know where to write." j

"The bequest proves best that he did not forget her,"
said Gronski, "and from the whole will it appears that he
was a man of better heart than people thought."

"Surely," answered Ladislaus.

For an interval they walked in silence; then Krzycki
resumed the conversation.

"As for myself, I prefer that she is not the daughter of
the deceased."

"Why ? Has that any bearing on the bequest ? "

"No. Under no circumstances will I accept that
bequest. Never ! "

"That is all very well, but tell me, why did you renounce
it with such vehemence that everybody was astonished ? "

64 WHIRLPOOLS.

"There is one circumstance which neither Mother nor
anybody else even suspects, but which I will sincerely
confess to you. In the proper time I seduced that girl."

Gronski stood still, gazed at Ladislaus, and ejaculated :

"What's that?"

As he was not prone to treat such matters with levity
and, besides, the previous narrative of Krzycki had
awakened within him a sympathy for Hanka, he frowned
and asked:

"For the fear of God ! Y(Ju seduced a child ? And you
say it was done in the proper time?"

But Ladislaus replied quite calmly:

"Let us not stop, for the dog has gone too far ahead of
us," and here he pointed at the white spaniel running
before them. "I did not seduce a child, for at that time
she was sixteen. It happened more than seven years
ago, while I was still a student and came to Jastrzeb on
a vacation."

"Were there any consequences?"

"As far as I know there were none. You will under-
stand that having returned the following vacation and not
finding either her or the Skibas, I did not ask about them,
for on the thief's head the cap burns.1 But to-day I casu-
ally asked the overseer whether the Skibas had not prob-
ably emigrated because some mishap had befallen their
daughter. He answered, 'No.'"

"Then it is better for her and for you."

"Certainly it is much better; for otherwise the matter
would have been brought to light and would reach
Mother's ears."

"And in such case you would suffer much unpleasant-
ness."

1 " On the thief's head the cap burns : " a Polish proverb
meaning that persons, conscious of guilt, always fear detection.
— Translator.

WHIRLPOOLS. 65

There was irony in Gronski's voice, but Ladislaus,
absorbed in his own thoughts, did not notice it and said :

"In such case, I would have unpleasantness because
Mother in such matters is exceedingly severe. So, to-day,
after mature deliberation, I am like a wolf, who will com-
mit no injury in the neighborhood where he keeps his
nest, but at that time I was more headstrong and less
careful."

"May the deuce take you!" exclaimed Gronski.

"For what?"

"Nothing; speak on."

"I have not much more to say. Recurring to the will,
you now understand why I could not accept it."

"Perhaps I do, but tell me 'thy exquisite reason/ as
Shakespeare says."

"Well, as to the seduction of a girl, that does happen in
villages, but to seduce a girl and appropriate to one's own
use that which had been provided for her, — why, that
would be too much. And perhaps she may be suffering, in
want, somewhere in America."

"Everything is possible," answered Gronski.

"So that if the advertisements, which I will make, do
not reach her notice, in such case, I would be using her
money, while she would die of starvation. No. Every-
thing has its limits. I am not extraordinarily scrupulous,
but there are some things which I plainly cannot do."

"Tell me, but sincerely, do you entertain towards her
any sentiment?"

"I will tell you candidly that I completely forgot her.
Now I have recalled her and, in truth, I cannot have any
ill-will towards her. On the contrary, that kind of recol-
lection cannot, of course, be disagreeable, unless it is
linked with remorse. But we were mere children — and a
pure accident brought us together."

"Then permit me to ask one more question. If the

5

66 WHIRLPOOLS.

deceased bequeathed to her the whole of Rzeslewo, and
the funds, and if she did not within two years appear to
claim them, would you renounce such a bequest?"

"I cannot answer a question to which I have not given
any consideration. I would not want to represent myself
to you any better or any worse than I am. But this much
is certain: I would publish the advertisements, and would
publish them for the two years. But after all, of what
importance to you can my answer be?"

And here he abruptly paused, for from the direction of
the adjacent birch grove some strange sound reached them,
resembling a snort, and at the same time, above the tops
of the birch and the lime-trees, there appeared upon the
background of the twilight a gray bird, flying in a straight
line to the underwood on the opposite side of the meadow.

"Woodcock!" cried Krzycki, and he bounded forward.

Gronski, following him, thought:

"He certainly never read Nietzsche, and yet in his veins,
together with the blood, there courses some noble super-
humanity. If anybody betrayed his sister, he would
have shot him in the head like a dog, but as a village girl
is concerned, he does not feel the slightest uneasiness."

Later they stopped at the edge of the birch grove. For
a time intense silence prevailed; after which a strange
voice resounded again above their heads and another
woodcock appeared. Gronski fired and missed; Krzycki
bettered — and they saw how, with descending flight, the
fowl fell in the underwood farther off. The white dog for
a while lingered in the dusk of the thicket and returned
carrying the dead bird in his mouth.

"She was already wounded when I fired," said Ladis-
laus. "It is your bird."

"You are a gracious host," answered Gronski.

And again silence ensued, which even the rustle of leaves
did not disturb, as there was not a breath of air. But

WHIRLPOOLS. 67

after a time two woodcocks snorted above their heads,
one following the other, at which Gronski could not shoot,
but Ladislaus winged both cleanly. Finally a more reck-
less one took pity on Gronski for she flew accommodatingly
over him, as if she desired to save him any inconvenience.
He himself felt ashamed at the thrill of pleasure he ex-
perienced when, after firing, he saw the bird hit the ground ;
and agreeable to his incorrigible habit of meditation upon
every phenomenon, he came to the conclusion that his
strange sensation could be attributed to the aboriginal
times, when man and his family were dependent for sub-
sistence upon skill in hunting. Thanks to this reasoning,
he did not shoot at another bird that flew nearer the edge
of the underwood and with which the flight evidently
ended, as they waited for others in vain. In the mean-
while it grew dark, and after an interval the white spaniel
emerged from the nightfall, and after him came Ladislaus.

"We had a bootless chase," he said, "but that is nothing.
In any case, there are four morsels for the ladies. To-
morrow we will try for more."

"This was but a slight interruption in your confessions,"
answered Gronski, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

"My confessions?" said Ladislaus. "Aha! — yes."

"You said that a mere accident brought you together."

"That actually was the case. But we must now go
ahead and you will kindly follow in my footsteps, as it is
damp here in some places. This way we will reach the
bridge and at the bridge we will have the road."

Not until they were on the road did he commence his
narrative :

"It all began and ended in the mill, which even at that
time served as a storage place for hay; and it did not
continue more than a fortnight. It occurred thus : I once
went out with a rifle to hunt for roebucks, for here roe-
bucks come out in the evening at the clearing on the stream.

68 WHIRLPOOLS.

It was very cloudy that day, but as it appeared to be clear
in the west, I thought that the clouds would pass away. I
took a position of a few hundred — and even more —
steps from the mill, for nearer there was lying on the
meadow, linen, which might scare the bucks ; and about a
half hour later I actually killed a buck. But in the mean-
while it began to rain, and in a short while there was
such a downpour as I had never seen in Jastrzeb. I
seized my buck by the hind legs and began to scamper off
with all my might for the mill. On the way I noticed
that some one had carried aw^y the linen. I rushed into
the mill and buried myself up to the ears in the hay, when
I heard somebody breathing close by me. I asked: 'Who
is that?' A thin voice answered me, 'I.' 'What kind of
an I?' 'Hanka.' 'What are you doing here?' 'I came
for the linen/ Then it began to thunder so much that I
thought the mill would fall to pieces ; — and not until it
had subsided somewhat did I learn by the aid of con-
tinuous questions that my female companion was from
Rzeslewo; that her family name was Skibianka, and that
she finished her sixteenth year on St. Anne's Day. Then,
and I give you my word, without any sinister will or intent,
but only as a jest and because it is customary to talk that
way with village maids, I said to her : ' Will you give me a
kiss ?' She did not answer, but as at that moment a thun-
der clap pealed, she nestled closer to me — perhaps from
fright. And I kissed her on the very lips and, as I live, I
had the same impression as if I had kissed a fragrant flower.
So I repeated it twice, three times, and so on, and she re-
turned the tenth or twentieth. When the storm passed
away and it became necessary for us to part, I had her
arms about my neck and at the same time my cheeks were
wet with her tears, — for she cried, but I do not know
whether from the loss of innocence or because I was
leaving."

WHIRLPOOLS. 69

Here, in spite of himself, the song of Ophelia, when
insane, flitted through Krzycki's memory.

Ladislaus continued:

"On our departure she said that she knew I was the
young lord of Jastrzeb; that she saw me every Sunday
in Rzeslewo and gazed upon me as upon some miracle-
working painting."

"Ah, you certainly are handsome to the point of nause-
ousness," interrupted Gronski, with a certain irritation.

"Bah ! — I have already three or four gray hairs."

"Surely, from birth. How often did you meet
thereafter?"

"Before I left her, I asked her whether she could not
slip away the following evening. She answered that she
could, because in the evening she always gathered the
linen, which was being bleached upon the meadow, for
fear that some one might steal it, and that besides, in
summer time she did not sleep in the cabin with her par-
ents, but on the hay in the barn. After that we met every
day. I had to conceal myself from the night watch, so
I slunk out of the window into the garden, though this was
an unnecessary precaution, for the watch slept so soundly
that one time I carried off the trumpet and staff belonging
to one of them. It was amusing also that, seeing Hanka
only in the night time, I did not know how she really
looked ; though in the moonlight she appeared to me to be
pretty."

"And in church?"

"Our collator's pew is near the altar, while the girls
knelt in the rear. There are so many of the same red and
yellow shawls, studded with so many flowers, that it is diffi-
cult to distinguish one from the other. At times it seemed
to me that I saw her in the distance, but I could not see her
perfectly. The vacation soon ended, and when I returned
the following season the Skibas were gone."

70 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Did you bid her farewell?"

"I admit that I did not. I preferred to avoid that."

"And did you ever long for her?"

"Yes. In Warsaw I longed for her intensely, and during
the first month I was deeply in love with her. After my
return to Jastrzeb, when I again saw the mill the feeling
revived, but at the same time I was content that every-
thing should drop, as it were, into the water and that
Mother should not know anything about it."

Conversing in this manner, they turned from the side
road to the shady walk leading to the manor-house, whose
low lights, from a distance of about a verst, at times
glistened through the boughs of the linden, and then
again hid themselves, screened by the thick foliage. The
night was starry and fair. It was, however, quite dark, for
the moon had not yet risen and the copper glow upon the
eastern sky announced its near approach. There was not
the slightest breath of air. The great nocturnal stillness
was broken by the barks of dogs, barely audible, from the
distant slumbering village. Involuntarily, Gronski and
Ladislaus began to speak in lower tones. However,
everything was not asleep, for a few hundred paces from
the walk, on the meadow near the river, firelights were
intermittingly flashing.

"Those are peasants pasturing the horses and catching
crawfish by the lights of the resinous wood," said Krzycki.
"I even hear one of them riding away."

And in fact at that moment they heard on the meadows
the clatter of the horse's hoofs, deadened by the grass, and
immediately afterwards the loud voice of a herdsman re-
sounded, who, amidst the nocturnal quiet, shouted in a
drawling tone :

" Wojtek — Bring with you some more fagots, for these
are not sufficient."

The night rider, having reached the road, soon passed

WHIRLPOOLS. 71

by the chatting friends like a shadow. He, however,
recognized the young heir, as in riding by them he pulled
off his cap and saluted :

"Praised be the Lord!"

"Now and forever."

And for some time they walked in silence.

Ladislaus began to whistle quietly and to shout at the
dog, but Gronski, who was cogitating upon what had
occurred in the mill, said :

"Do you know that if you were an Englishman, for
instance, your idyl would have ended, in all probability,
differently, and you would throughout your life have had
a chaste remembrance, in which there would be great
poetry."

"We eat less fish, therefore have a temperament differ-
ing from the Englishmen. As to poetry, perhaps there
also was a little of it in our affair."

"It is not so much different temperament as different
usages, and in that is the relief. They have a soul, health-
ier and at the same time, more independent, and do not
borrow their morality from French books."

After which he meditated for a while and then con-
tinued :

"You say that in your relations there was a little poetry.
Certainly, but looking at it only from Hanka's side, not
yours. In her, really, there is something poetical, for,
deducing from your own words, she loved you truly."

"That is certain," said Ladislaus. "Who knows
whether I ever in my life will be loved as much ?"

"I think that you will not. For that reason, I am as-
tonished that this stone should drop into the depth of your
forgetfulness and that you should have so completely
effaced it."

These words touched Krzycki somewhat, so he replied :

"Candidly speaking, I related all this to you for the

72 WHIRLPOOLS.

purpose of explaining why I do not accept the bequest,
and, in the naivete of my soul, I thought that you would
praise me. But you are only seeking sore spots. Indeed,
I would, after all, have preferred that this had not hap-
pened, but, since it happened, it is best not to think of it.
For if I had as many millions as there are girls seduced
every year in the villages, I could purchase not only Rzes-
lewo, but one half of the county. I can assure you that
they themselves do not look upon it as a tragedy, neither
do such things end in misfortune. It would plainly be
laughable if I took this to heart more than Hanka who in
all probability did not take It to heart and does not."

"How do you know?"

"That is usually the case. But if it were the reverse,
what can I do ? Surely I will not journey across the ocean
to seek her. In a book that might perhaps appear very
romantic, but in reality I have an estate which I cannot
abandon and a family which it is not permissible for me
to sacrifice. Such a Hanka, with whom, speaking paren-
thetically, you have soured me by recalling, may be the
most honest girl, but to marry her — of course I could
not marry her; therefore what, after all, can I do?"

" I do not know ; but you must agree that there is a cer-
tain moral unsavoriness in the situation in which a man,
after committing a wrong, afterwards asks himself or
others, ' What can I do?'"

"Oh, that was only a fa£on de parler," replied Krzycki,
"for, on the whole, I know perfectly. I will publish the
advertisements and with that everything will end. The
penance, which the priest at the proper tune imposed upon
me, I have performed, and I do not intend to make any
further atonement."

To this Gronski said:

"Sero molunt deorum molse. Do you understand
what that means in Polish?"

WHIRLPOOLS. 73

" Having assumed the management of Jastrzeb, I sowed
all my latinity over its soil, but it has not taken root."

"That means: The mills of the gods grind late."

Krzycki began to laugh and, pointing his hand in the
direction of the old mill, said:

"That one will not grind anything any more; I guaran-
tee that."

Further conversation was interrupted by their meeting
near the gates two indistinct forms, with which they al-
most collided, for though the moon had already ascended,
in the old linden walk it was completely dark.

Ladislaus thought that they were the lady visitors enjoy-
ing an evening stroll, but for certainty asked, "Who
is there?"

"We," answered an unknown feminine voice.

"And who in particular?"

"Servants of Pani Otocka and Miss Anney."

The young man recalled the young girl whose dark
head obstructed his view of the lustrous hair of the Eng-
lish woman during the May mass.

"Aha!" he said. "Do not you young girls fear to
walk in the darkness? A were- wolf might carry off one
of you."

"We are not scared," answered the same voice.

"And perhaps I am a were- wolf ?"

"A were- wolf does not look like that."

Both girls began to laugh and withdrew a few steps;
at the same time a bright ray darted through the leaves
and illumined the white forehead, black eyebrows, and
the whites of the eyes of one of them, which glittered
greenishly.

Krzycki, who was flattered by the words that a were-
wolf did not look like that, gazed at those eyes and said :

"Good-night!"

"Good-night!"

74 WHIRLPOOLS.

The ladies, with Dolhanski, were already in the dining-
room, as the service of the supper awaited only the hunters
who, after their return, withdrew to change their apparel.
Marynia sat at one end of the table with the children and
conversed a little with them and a little with Laskowicz,
who was relating something to her with great animation,
gazing all the time at her with intense fixedness and also
with wariness that no one should observe him. Gronski,
however, did observe him and, as the young student had
interested and disquieted him from the time he learned
of his agitation among the^Rzeslewo peasants, he desired
to participate in the conversation. But Marynia at that
moment having heard the conclusion, joined the other
ladies, who, having previously heard from the balcony
the shooting in the direction of the old mill, inquired about
the results of the hunt. It appearing that neither Miss
Anney nor the two sisters had ever seen woodcocks except
upon a platter, the old servant upon Krzycki's order
brought the four lifeless victims. They viewed them with
curiosity, expressed tardy commiseration for their tragic
fate, and asked about their manner of life. Ladislaus,
whom the animal world had interested from early years,
began to relate at the supper the strange habits of those
birds and their mysterious flights. While thus occupied
he paid particular attention to Pani Otocka, for he was,
for the first time, struck by her uncommonly fine stature.
On the whole, he preferred other, less subtile kinds of
beauty, and prized, above all else, buxom women. He
observed, however, that on that night Pani Otocka looked
extraordinarily handsome. Her unusually delicate com-
plexion appeared yet more delicate in her black lace-
stitched dress, and in her eyes, in the outlines of her lips,
in the expression of her countenance, and in her whole
form there was something so maidenly that whoever was
not aware of her widowhood would have taken her for a

WHIRLPOOLS. 75

maid of a good country family. Ladislaus, from the first
arrival of these ladies, had indeed enlisted on the side of
Miss Anney, but at the present moment he had to con-
cede in his soul that the Englishwoman was not a specimen
of so refined a race and, what was worse, she seemed to
him that day less beautiful than this "subtile cousin."

But at the same time he made a strange discovery,
namely: that this observation not only did not lessen his
sympathy for the light-haired lady, but in some manner
moved him strongly and inclined him to a greater friend-
ship for her; as if by that comparison with Pani Otocka
he had done an undeserved wrong to the Englishwoman,
for which he ought to apologize to her. "I must be on my
guard/' he thought, "otherwise I will fall." He began to
search for the celestial flow in her eyes and, finding it,
drank its dim azure, drop by drop.

In the meantime Pani Krzycki, desirous of learning the
earliest plans of the sisters, began to ask Pani Otocka
whether they were going to travel abroad, and where.

"The doctor," she said, "sends me to mineral baths on
account of my rheumatism, but I would be delighted to
spend one more summer with you somewhere."

"And to us your sojourn at Krynica left the most agree-
able memories," replied Pani Otocka; "particularly, as
we are in perfect health, we willingly would remain in the
village and more willingly would invite Aunt to us, with her
entire household, were it not that the times are so troub-
lous and it is unknown what may happen on the morrow.
But if it will quiet down, Aunt, after her recovery, must
certainly pay us a visit."

Saying this, she ardently kissed the hand of Pani
Krzycki who said:

"How good you are and how lovable! I would with
all my heart go to you, only, with my health, I must not
obey the heart but various hidden ailments. Besides, the

76 WHIRLPOOLS.

times are really troublous and I understand it is rather
dangerous for ladies to remain alone in the villages. Have
you any reliable people in Zalesin?"

" I do not fear my own people as they were very much
attached to my husband, and now that attachment has
passed to me. My husband taught them, above all things,
patriotism, and at the same time introduced improve-
ments which did not exist elsewhere. We have an or-
phanage, hospital, baths, stores, and fruit nurseries for
the distribution of small trees. He even caused artesian
wells to be sunk to provide enough healthful water for the
village."

Dolhanski, hearing this, leaned towards Krzycki and
whispered :

"A capitalist's fantasy. He regarded his wife and
Zalesin as two playthings which he fondled, and played
the r6le of a philanthropist because he could afford it."

But Pani Krzycki again began to ask:

"Who now is in charge of Zalesin?"

And the young widow, having cast off a momentary
sad recollection, answered with a smile :

"In the neighborhood they say Dworski rules Zalesin.
- He is the old accountant of my husband and is very de-
voted to us. — I rule Dworski, and Marynia rules me."

"And that is the truth," interjected Miss Anney, "with
this addition, and me also."

To this Marynia shook her head and said :

" Oh, Aunt, if you only knew how they sometimes twit
me!"

"Somehow I do not see that, but I think that the time
will come when somebody will rule you also."

"It has already come," broke out Marynia.

"So? That is curious. Who is that despot?"

And the little violinist, pointing with a quick movement
of her little finger at Gronski, said :

"That gentleman."

WHIRLPOOLS. 77

"Now I understand," said Dolhanski, "why, after our
return from the notary, he had a teapot full of hot water
over his head."

Gronski shrugged his shoulders, like a man who had
been charged with unheard-of things, and exclaimed:

*'I? A despot? Why, I am a victim, the most hypno-
tized of all."

"Then Pan Laskowicz is the hypnotizer, not I," an-
swered the young miss, "for he himself at supper was
telling me about hypnotism and explaining what it is."

Gronski looked toward the other end of the table, in the
direction of the student, and saw his eyes, strained, re-
fractory, and glistening, fastened upon Marynia.

"Aha!" he thought, "he actually is trying his powers
upon her."

He frowned and, addressing her, said :

"Nobody in truth knows what hypnotism is. We see
its manifestations and nothing more. But how did Las-
kowicz explain it to you?"

" He told me what I already had heard before ; that the
person put to sleep must perform everything which the
operator commands, and even when awakened must sub-
mit to the operator's will."

"That is untrue," said Gronski.

"And I think likewise. He claimed also that he could
put me to sleep very easily, but I feel that he cannot."

"Excellent! Do such things interest you?"

"Hypnotism a little. But if it is to be anything mysteri-
ous, then I prefer to hear about spirits; especially do I
like to hear the stories which one of our neighbors relates
about fairies. He says they are called sprites, and indulge
in all kinds of tricks in old houses, and they can be seen at
night time through the windows in rooms where the fire
is burning in the hearth. There they join hands and
dance before the fire."

78 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Those are gay fairies."

"And not malicious, though mischievous. Our aged
neighbor piously believes in them and quarrels about them
with the rector. He says his house is full of them and that
they are continually playing pranks: sometimes pulling
the coils of the clock to make it ring; sometimes hiding
his slippers and other things; making noise during the
night; hitching crickets to nut-shells and driving with
them over the rooms; in the kitchen they skim the milk
and throw peas into the fire to make them pop. If you do
not vex them, they are benevolent, driving away spiders
and mice, and watching that the mushrooms do not soil
the floor. This neighbor of ours at one time was a man of
great education, but in his old age has become queer, and
he tells us this in all seriousness. We, naturally, laugh at
it, but I confess that I very much wish that such a world
did exist ; — strange and mysterious ! There would be in
it something so good and nice, and less sadness."

Here she began to look off with dreamy eyes and after-
wards continued:

"I remember also that whenever we discussed Boeck-
lin's pictures, those fauns, nymphs, and dryads which he
painted, I always regretted that all that did not exist in
reality. And sometimes it seemed to me that they might
exist, only we do not see them. For, in truth, who knows
what happens in the woods at noontime or night time,
when no one is there ; or in the mists during the moonlight
or upon the ponds ? Belief in such a world is not wholly
childish, since we believe in angels."

"I also believe in fairies, nymphs, dryads, and angels,"
answered Gronski.

"Really?" she asked, "for you always speak to me as
to a child."

And he answered her only mentally:

"I speak as with a child, but I idolize."

WHIRLPOOLS. 79

But further conversation was interrupted by the servant,
who informed Ladislaus that the steward of Rzeslewo had
arrived and desired to see the "bright young lord" on a
very important matter. Krzycki apologized to the com-
pany and with the expression, customary with country
husbandmen, "What is up now?" left the room. As
the supper was almost finished, they all began to move,
after the example of the lady of the house, who, however,
for a while endeavored in vain to rise, for the rheumatism
during the past two days afflicted her more and more.
Similar attacks occurred often and in such cases her son
usually conducted her from room to room. But in this in-
stance Miss Anney, who sat nearest to her, came to her
assistance and, taking her in her arms, lifted her easily,
skillfully, and without any exertion.

"I thank you, I thank you," said Pani Krzycki, "for
otherwise I would have to wait for Laudie. Ah, my God,
how good it is to be strong!"

"Oh, in me you have a veritable Samson," answered
Miss Anney in her pleasant, subdued voice.

But at that moment Ladislaus, who evidently recalled
that he had to escort his mother, rushed into the room and,
seeing what was taking place, exclaimed :

"Permit me, Miss Anney. That is my duty. You will
fatigue yourself."

"Not the least."

"Ah, Laudie," said Pani Krzycki, "to tell the truth, I
do not know which one of you two is the stronger."

" Is it truly so ? " he asked, looking with rapt eyes upon
the slender form of the girl.

And she began to wink with her eyes in token that such
was the fact, but at the same time blushed as if ashamed
of her unwomanly strength.

Ladislaus, however, assisted her to seat his mother at
the table in the small salon, at which she was accustomed

80 WHIRLPOOLS.

to amuse herself in the evenings by laying out cards to
forecast fortunes. On this occasion he unintentionally
brushed his shoulder against Miss Anney's shoulder and,
when he felt those steel-like young muscles, a violent
thrill suddenly penetrated through him and at the same
time he was possessed by a perception of some elementary,
unheard-of, blissful power. If he were Gronski and ever
in his life had read Lucretius' hymn to Venus, he would
have been able to know and name that power. But as he
was only a twenty-seven-year-old, healthy nobleman, he
only thought that the moments in which he would be free
to hug such a girl to his bosom would be worth the sacri-
fice of Jastrzeb, Rzeslewo, and even life.

But in the meanwhile he had to return to the steward of
Rzeslewo, who waited for him in the office upon an urgent
matter. Their talk lasted so long that when Ladislaus
reappeared in the small salon, the young ladies had al-
ready withdrawn to their rooms. Only his mother, who
was purposely waiting, desirous of knowing what was the
matter, remained, with Gronski and with Dolhanski, who
was playing baccarat with himself.

"What is the news ?" asked Pani Krzycki.

"Absolutely nothing good. Only let Mamma not get
alarmed, for we are of course here in Jastrzeb and not in
Rzeslewo; and eventually we can brush this aside with
our hands. But nevertheless, strange things are occurring
there and Kapuscinski, in any event, did right to come
here."

"For the Lord's sake, who is Kapuscinski?" exclaimed
Dolhanski, dropping the monocle from his eye.

" The steward of Rzeslewo. He says that some unknown
persons, probably from Warsaw, appeared there and are
acting like gray geese in the skies. They issue commands,
summon the peasants, incite them, promising them the
lands and even order them to take possession of the stock.

WHIRLPOOLS. 81

They predict it will be the same in all Poland as it is in
Rzeslewo— "

"And what of the peasants? what of the peasants?"
interrupted Pani Krzycki.

"Some believe them, while others do not. The more
sensible, who attempt to resist, are threatened with death.
The manor farm-hands will not obey Kapuscinski and say
that they will only pasture and feed the cattle, but will not
touch any other work. About fifteen of the tenants are
preparing to go to the woods with hatchets and they declare
that, if the foresters interfere with their right to cut wood,
they will give them a good drubbing. Kapuscinski has
lost his head completely and came to me, as one of the
executors of the will, for advice."

"And what did you tell him?"

"As he declared to me that he was not certain of his
life in Rzeslewo, I advised him by all means to pass the
night with us in Jastrzeb. I wanted first to consult Mother
and you, for in fact, advice under the circumstances is
difficult to give and the situation is grave. Of course such
a situation cannot continue very long, and sooner or later
the peasants themselves will suffer the most by it. This
we must positively prevent. I will candidly state that for
the past two days, I have been considering whether it
would not be better if I renounced the curatorship of the
new school and Rzeslewo matters in general. I hesitated
only because it is a public service, but in truth, I have
so much work to attend to here in Jastrzeb, that I do not
know on what I shall lay my hands first. But now, since
it is necessary to rescue the peasants, and since a cer-
tain amount of danger is connected with it, I cannot
retreat."

"I will fear about you, but I understand you," said
Pani Krzycki.

" I think that by all means, I should drive over to-morrow

82 WHIRLPOOLS.

morning to Rzeslewo, but if I do not secure a hearing there,
then what is to be done?"

"You will not get any," said Dolhanski, not pausing in
his distribution of the cards.

"If you go, I will go with you," announced Pani
Krzycki.

" Ah, that would be the only thing needful ! Let Mamma
only think that in such a case I would be terribly hampered
and certainly would not gain anything."

After which he kissed her hand and said :

"No, no! Mamma does* not understand that matters
would be worse and, if Mamma insists, then I would rather
not go at all."

Gronski propped his head upon his hand and thought
that it was easier to analyze at a desk the various phases
of life than to offer sound advice in the presence of urgent
events. Dolhanski at last stopped playing baccarat with
himself and said:

"The position we are placed in passes all comprehension.
But were we in any other country, the police would be
summoned and the matter would end in a day."

To this Ladislaus replied with some anger:

"As for that, permit me! I will not summon the
police ; not only not against those peasants, but not even
against those forbidden figures who now haunt Rzeslewo.
No, never!"

"Very well; long live an epoch of true freedom!"

"Who knows," said Gronski, "but that the summoning
of the police would just suit these gentlemen?"

"In what way?"

"Because they themselves, at the proper season, would
disappear, but later would incite the people again and
would cry all over Poland, 'Behold! who appeals to the
police against peasants/ "

"That is a pertinent observation," said Ladislaus;

WHIRLPOOLS. 83

"now I understand various things which I did not com-
prehend before."

"From the opening of the will," said Dolhanski, "Rzes-
lewo and its inhabitants did not concern me in the least.
However, one thought occurred to me while dealing the
cards. Laudie will drive over to Rzeslewo to-morrow on a
fruitless errand. He may receive only a sound beating,
without benefiting anybody — "

" It has never yet come to that, and that is something I
do not fear. Our family has lived in Jastrzeb from time
immemorial, and the peasants of this neighborhood would
not raise their hands against a Krzycki — "

"Above all, do not interrupt me," said Dolhanski. "If
you do not get a sound thrashing — and I assume that
you may not — then you will not secure a hearing, as you
yourself foresaw a little while ago. If we two, that is,
Gronski and myself, went over there, we would not effect
anything because they have seen us at the funeral, and
the estimable Slavonians of Rzeslewo look upon us as men
who have a personal interest in the matter. It will be
necessary that some one unknown go there, who will not
argue, but who will act as if he had the right and power
and will command the peasants to behave peaceably.
Since you are so much concerned about them, that will
be the only way. So, then, since by virtue of the unfathom-
able decrees of Providence there exist in this beloved land
of ours National Democrats, whom, parenthetically speak-
ing, I cannot endure any more than the seven-spot of clubs,
but who, in all probability, have fists as sweaty and as heavy
as the socialists, — could you not settle this matter with
their assistance?"

"Of course, naturally, naturally!" exclaimed Gronski;
" the peasants, after all, have great confidence in the Na-
tional party."

"I also belong to that party with my whole heart," said

84 WHIRLPOOLS.

Krzycki, "but, sitting, like a stone, in Jastrzeb, I do not
know to whom to apply."

"In any case, not to me/* said Dolhanski.

But Gronski, though he did not belong to any faction,
thoroughly knew the city and easily suggested the addresses
and the manner in which the party could be notified. He
afterwards said:

"And now I will give you one word of advice, the same
which you, Laudie, gave Kapuscinski, namely, that we go
to sleep, for you, especially, madam," — here he addressed
the lady of the house — ' 'were entitled to that long ago.
Is it agreed?"

"Agreed," answered Ladislaus; "but wait a few min-
utes. After conducting Mother, I will accompany you
upstairs."

Within a quarter of an hour he returned, but instead of
bidding his guests the promised "good-night" he drew
closer to them and resumed the interrupted conversation.

"I did not wish to relate everything before Mother,"
he said, " in order not to alarm her. But in fact the matter
is much worse. So, speaking first of what concerns us,
imagine for yourself that those strangers immediately
after their arrival asked first of all about Laskowicz, and
that Laskowicz was in Rzeslewo this afternoon and re-
turned here an hour before we came back from the hunt.
Now it is positively certain that we have in our midst an
agitator."

"Then throw him out," interrupted Dolhanski. "If I
were in your place, I would have done that long ago, if
only for the reason that he has eyes set closely to each
other, like a baboon. In a man that indicates fanaticism
and stupidity."

"Unquestionably I will be done with him to-morrow,
and I would end with him even to-day, notwithstanding
the late hour, were it not that I desire first to calm down

WHIRLPOOLS. 85

and not create any foolish disturbance. I do not like this,
and I would not advise those apostles to peer into Jastrzeb.
As I live, I would not advise it."

"Have they any intention of paying you a visit?"

"Certainly. If not to me personally, then to my farm-
hands. They announced in Rzeslewo that they would
cause an agrarian strike in the entire vicinity."

"Then my advice, to drive out one wedge with another,
is the most feasible."

"Assuredly. I will adopt that course without delay."

"I know," said Gronski, "that they want to inaugurate
agrarian strikes throughout the whole country. They
will not succeed as the peasant element will repel their
efforts. They, like most people from the cities, do not
take into account the relation of man to the soil. Never-
theless, there will be considerable losses and the confusion
will increase, and this is what they chiefly care for. Ah I
Shakespeare's 'sun of foolery* not only shines in our land,
but is in the zenith."

" If we are talking of that kind of a sun, we can, like a
former king of Spain, say that it never sets in our pos-
sessions."

But Gronski spoke farther:

"Socialism — good! That, of course, is a thing more
ancient than Menenius Agrippa. That river has flown for
ages. At times, when covered by other ideas, it coursed
underground, and later emerged into the broad daylight.
At times it subsides, then swells and overflows. At present
we have a flood, very menacing, which may submerge
not only factories, cities, and countries, but even civiliza-
tion. Above all, it threatens France, where comfort and
money have displaced all other ideas. Socialism is the
inevitable result of that. Capital wedded to demagogism
cannot breed any other child; and if that child has the
head of a monster and mole, so much the worse for the

86 WHIRLPOOLS.

father. It demonstrates that superfluous wealth may be a
national danger. But this is not strange. Privilege is
an injustice against which men have fought for centuries.
Formerly the princes, clergy, and nobility were vested
with it. To-day nobody has any; money possesses all.
In truth, Labor has stepped forth to combat with it."

"This begins to smell to me like an apology for social-
ism," observed Dolhanski.

"No. It is not an apology. For, above all things,
viewing this matter from above, what is this new current
but one more delusion in the<iiuman chase after happiness ?
For myself, I only contend that socialism has come, or
rather, it has gathered strength, because it was bound to
grow. I care only about its looks and whether it could not
have a different face. And here my criticism begins. I
do not deem socialism a sin in the socialists, but only that
the idea in their school assumes the lineaments of an
malignant idiot. I accuse our socialists of incredible
stupidity; like that of the ants who wrangled with and
bit the working ants, while the ant-eater was lying on the
ant-hill and swallowing them by thousands."

"True," cried Ladislaus.

"And, of course," concluded Gronski, "on our ant-hills
there lie a whole herd of ant-eaters."

Here Dolhanski again dropped the monocle from his
eye.

"That you may not retire to sleep under a disagreeable
impression," he said, "I will tell you an anecdote which
will illustrate what Gronski has said. During the last
exposition in Paris, one of the black kings of French
Congo, having heard of it, announced his wish to see it.
The Colonial government, which was anxious to send as
many exotic figures as possible to Paris, not only consented,
but sent to this monarch a few shirts with the information
that in France such articles of attire were indispensable.

WHIRLPOOLS. 87

Naturally the shirts excited general admiration and sur-
prise. The King summoned ministers, priests, and lead-
ers of parties for a consultation as to how such a machine
was to be put on. After long debates, which undoubtedly
could not be held without bitter clashes between the native
rationalists and the native nationalists and progressionists,
all doubts were finally set at rest. The king pulled the
sleeves of the shirt over his legs, so that the cuffs were at
his ankles. The bottom edge of the shirt, which in this
instance became the top, was fastened under his arm-pits by
a string in such a manner that the bosom was on his back
and the opening was at his neck — somewhat lower.
Delighted with this solution of the difficulty, the ruler
acknowledged that the attire, if not entirely, was, at least
in certain respects, very practical and, above all, extra-
ordinarily striking."

"Good," said Gronski, laughing, "but what connection
has that with what I had previously said ? "

" Greater than may appear to you," replied Dolhanski ;
"for the fact is that the various Slavonians are prepared
to bear liberty and the socialists socialism in the same
manner as that negro king wore his European shirt."

Saying this, he replaced the monocle in his eye and
announced that as in virtuous Jastrzeb and in such com-
pany there could not be any talk of a "night card party,"
he would take his leave and go to sleep. The others de-
cided to follow his example. Ladislaus took the lamp
and began to light the way for the guests. On the stairs
he turned to them with a countenance which depicted ill
humor and said:

"May the deuce take it, but all these disturbances must
occur at a time when we have in Jastrzeb such lovely
ladies."

"Beware," answered Dolkanski, "and know that noth-
ing can be concealed from my eyes. When you assisted

88 WHIRLPOOLS.

Miss Anney to conduct your mother, you looked like an
electrical machine. If anybody drew a wire through you,
you could illuminate not only the mansion but the adjoin-
ing out-buildings/'

Ladislaus raised the lamp higher so that the light would
not fall upon his countenance, for he felt at that moment
that he blushed like a student.

WHIRLPOOLS.

IX

LADISLAUS KRZYCKI possessed such a happy nature that,
having once lain down to sleep, he could a few minutes
later fall into a deep slumber which would continue until
the morning. That night, however, he could not fall asleep
because the impressions of the day, together with the
parting words of Dolhanski, had led him into a state of
exasperation and anger. He was angry at Rzeslewo; at
the disturbances which were taking place there; at Dol-
hanski because he had observed the impression which the
young girl had made upon him — and particularly because
he himself had afforded him an opportunity to comment
upon it — and finally at the innocent Miss Anney. After
a time, rolling from side to side, he opened an imaginary
conversation with her, in which he assumed the r6le of a
man, who, indeed, does not deny that he is deeply under the
spell, nevertheless, can view matters soberly and sanely.
Therefore he admitted to Miss Anney that she was hand-
some and amiable ; that she had an immensely sympathetic
voice, a strange, fascinating look, and a body like marble
— ah, what a body ! Nevertheless, he made the explicit
reservation that she must not think that he loved her to
distraction, or was even smitten with her. He would con-
cede anything to her that she desired, but to admit that he
was in love with her was as far removed from his thoughts
as love is from matrimony, of which, of course, there could
not be any talk. Above all, she was a foreigner, and
Mother in that respect had her prejudices, justly so; and
he himself would prefer to have at his side during the
remainder of his life a Polish soul and not a foreign one.

90 WHIRLPOOLS.

True, there was something homelike in her, but after all,
she was not a Pole. " Identical blood has its own meaning ;
it cannot be helped," he further told Miss Anney. "So,
since you are an Englishwoman, marry some Englishman
or Scotchman, provided, however, you do not require me
to form the acquaintance of such an ape and become inti-
mate with him, for that is something I can dispense with
perfectly." And at that moment he was seized with such
a sudden, unexpected antipathy to that eventual English-
man "with projecting jaw" and Scotchman "with bare
knees," that he felt that upon a trivial misunderstanding
he could flog them. But through this attack of rage he
roused himself completely from that half-drowsy, half-
wakeful condition in which whimsical fancies mingle, and
having recovered his senses, he experienced a great relief
in the thought that the betrothed person beyond the sea
was only a figment of his imagination, and at the same time
a wave of gratitude towards Miss Anney surged in his
heart. "Here I am, quarrelling with her and making reser-
vations," he thought, "while she is snugly nestling her
bright head upon a pillow and peacefully slumbering."
Here again his blood began to frisk, but soon the perverse
musings vanished. This became easier for him, as he was
encompassed by a yearning for honest affection and for
that future being, yet unnamed, who was to share his
life. Again he resumed his imaginary conversation with
Miss Anney, but this time in a meek spirit. He assured
her, with a certain melancholy, that he was not solicitous
about her, as he well knew that even if there were no
obstacles she certainly would not have him, but that he
was anxious that his future life-companion should resemble
her a little; that she should have the same look and the
same magnetic strength to which, if he did not succumb it
would be a miracle. As to Miss Anney personally, plainly
speaking, he owed only gratitude. Of course, nowhere

WHIRLPOOLS. 91

was it so wefl with him as at his beloved Jastrzeb, but
nevertheless he could not deny that in that exclusive den
it became lively and bright after her arrival; and that
after her departure it would become darker, more dreary
and monotonous than ever before. So for those bright
moments he would willingly kiss her hand and, if that
seemed insufficient to her, then her feet. In the mean-
time he begged her pardon for the mad thoughts which
passed through his brain when he brushed against her
shoulder in the salon, for though he was always of the
opinion that responsiveness upon her part was worth the
sacrifice of life, yet at the same time he had to contend that
Dolhanski was a blockhead and cynic who meddled with
matters which did not concern him and who was unworthy
of notice. Here renewed rage against Dolhanski possessed
him, and he continued for some time to toss from side to
side until finally the late hour, youth, hungry for sleep, and
weariness sprinkled his eyes with poppy.1

There was, however, in the Jastrzeb manor-house an-
other who did not sleep and who talked with a person not
present, and that was Laskowicz. After all that had
taken place and what had been revealed in the past few
days, he was prepared for his farewell parting with the
Krzycki family, as he well knew that his further presence
in Jastrzeb would be intolerable. And nevertheless he
desired at present to stay in it, even though for a few days,
in order that he might gaze longer upon Panna Marynia
and, as he called it, "further narcotize himself." Somehow,
from the first moment he had heard her play, she actually
absorbed his thoughts in a way that no woman up to that
time had done. Foremost among the prepared formalse
which he, with dogmatic faith, had adopted to judge
mankind with, was the precept that a woman belonging

1 " Sprinkled his eyes with poppy : " proverbial expression
denoting "lulled to sleep." — Translator.

92 WHIRLPOOLS.

to the so-called pampered class was a thoughtless creature.
In the meantime he had to dissent at once from that for-
mula as a soul had spoken to him through the violin. Later
he was astonished to find in that young lady two entities,
one of which manifested itself in music as a finished
artist, concentrated, filled with exaltation within herself,
dissolved in the waves of tones and playing as if she drew
the bow over her own nerves; the other appeared in
every-day life in her customary relations with people.
The latter seemed at the first glance of the eye, if not an
insignificant, a common gffl, full of simplicity and even
gaiety, who screamed like a cat when Dolhanski, for in-
stance, said things disagreeable to her; who jested with
Gronski, telling him absurdities about spirits or, to the
great alarm of Gronski and her older sister, fled into the
garden for a boat ride on the pond. Laskowicz did not
fully comprehend the world and was not a subtle person ;
nevertheless, he observed in the "common girl" something
which made her, as it were, a little divinity, haloed with
a quiet worship. Evidently she herself did not appear
to be conscious of this and, viewing such a state of affairs
as something which was self-understood, she lived the
life of a flower or a bird. Confident that she will not
suffer any harm from any one, gentle, bright, living be-
yond the misery and wretchedness of life, beyond its cares,
beyond its chilling winds which dim the eyes with tears,
beyond the dust which defiles, she resembled a pure spring
which people look upon as blessed and whose translucency
they fear to muddy. It seemed that the environment did
not exact of her anything more than that she should ex-
ist, just as nothing more is demanded of a masterpiece.

To Laskowicz, as often as he gazed at her, there came
recollection of his childhood days. He and his older
brother, who, a few years before falling into consumption
had committed suicide on the Riviera, were the sons of a

WHIRLPOOLS. 93

woman who conducted near one of the churches in War-
saw a shop for the sale of consecrated wax candles, medals,
rosaries, and pictures. Owing to this, both brothers were,
in a way, bred upon the church portals and were in constant
relations with the priests. Once it happened that the aged
canon, the rector of the church, bought at an auction an
alabaster statuette of some saint, and for an unknown
reason took it for granted that it was not only the work,
but the masterpiece of Canova. The statuette, which, in
reality, was pretty and finely executed, after consecration,
was placed in a separate niche near one of the altars un-
der the name of Saint Apollonia and from that time the
gentle old rector surrounded it with great worship as a
holy relic and with more particular care as the greatest
church rarity. He led his guests and more pious parish-
ioners before it and commanded them to admire the work
and got angry if any one ventured to make any critical ob-
servation. In fact, the admiration of the canon was
shared by the organist, the sexton, the church servants,
and both boys. The thought that Panna Marynia amidst
her environment was such a Saint Apollonia unwittingly
suggested itself to Laskowicz. For that reason, after the
first impression he called her "a saintly doll." But he
also recalled that when in the course of time he lost his
faith — and he lost it in the gymnasium where, speaking
parenthetically, he completed his studies with the aid of
the venerable canon — he often was beset with a desire
to demolish that alabaster statuette. At present he was
consumed with a greater desire, for it bordered upon a
passion, to destroy this living one. And yet he did not in
the least bear her any hatred. On the contrary, he could
not resist the charm of this maiden, so loved by all, any
more than one can resist the charm of dawn or spring. It
even happened that what vexed and exasperated him also
at the same time attracted him towards her with an un-

94 WHIRLPOOLS.

controllable force. Consequently he was drawn to her
by her appurtenance to this world, the existence of which
he deemed a social injustice, crime, and wrong; she at-
tracted him in spite of his internal anguish, and even by
the thought that beside such a flower the proletariat was
but manure. A lure for him was her refined culture and
her art, though he regarded such things as superfluous
and unnecessary for people of deflorated life ; the fascina-
tion was her utter dissimiliarity to the women whom he
met up to the time of his arrival at the village, and her
whole form was an intoxication. Never before was he
under the same roof with a being like her; therefore he
forgot himself and lost his head at the sight of her, and
though he had not yet familiarized himself with the power
which began to play in his bosom and had not christened
it with the name of love, the truth was that during the
past few days he was aflame like a volcano and loved her
to distraction. He vaguely felt, however, that in this pas-
sion there was something of the lust of a negro for a white
woman, and what was more, that in that particular love
there was apostasy to principles. So then in the same
germ he poisoned her with the virus of hatred and the
wolfish propensity of annihilation.

And now he was summoning this "saintly doll" to come
to him. Accepting, indiscriminately, and also with all
that exaggeration peculiar to fanaticism and youth, every-
thing which the books published as the results of the latest
researches or phenomena in the domain of science, he be-
lieved that hypnotism was a secret and gigantic power
which, when applied, would become invincible. Holding
himself on the strength of experiments tried among his
classmates as a hypnotizer, and considering the delicate
and impressionable young girl an excellent medium, he
was most firmly convinced that he could put her to sleep
and command her from a distance. Conscience, indeed,

WHIRLPOOLS. 95

whispered to him that what he contemplate^ doing was an
abuse of science, but he silenced that voice, persuading
himself that it would at the same time be a triumph of a
proletaire over this world, for which it is not permissible
to have any pity, and that a man belonging to the camp
which had declared a war of life and death on the entire
social structure and "had appraised at their true worth"
all current ideas has the right to and must be heedless.

Above all, however, he yearned to subjugate this ele-
gant and immaculate maiden, to dominate not merely
her body and soul, but also her will ; to transform her into
something like himself ; to draw her to himself, to awaken
within her the slumbering feminine instincts, to open be-
fore her the closed doors of passion; to inflame her, to
embrace her, to toy with her, and afterwards keep her for-
ever close to his bosom. And at that thought he was beset
by a strange joy like that which madmen feel while pro-
faning objects held in reverence and fear, and, simultane-
ously, lust and love within him intensified. He felt that
after all that and for all of that, he would love this booty
of his, this sacrifice, to distraction.

But as he was a madman only about the heart of a maid,
and not a depraved man, he was at times possessed by a
tenderness so great that if his summons were productive
of any results he might not pass the bounds of transgres-
sion. But these were transient moments; after which,
straining the whole strength of his will and the sight of his
closely set eyes in the direction of Marynia's sleeping
chamber he said and commanded : " Rise ! — do not light
the candles — do not awaken your sister — open the door
quietly and walk in darkness on the path of my thoughts
until you come to me, to my arms, to my bosom I" And
he imagined that at any moment he would behold her,
resembling that alabaster statuette, entering with the me-
chanical step of a somnambulist in a single gown, silvery,

96 WHIRLPOOLS.

dreamy, with head tilted backward, with closed eyes and
opened lips drinking the lustre of the moon which shone
in the windows. Afterwards he listened in the silence and,
concentrating yet more powerfully his will, he repeated
again with emphasis as if each word was chiselled out of
stone: "Rise! do not light the candles — do not waken
your sister — open the door — go on the path of my
thoughts — and come!"

Horrible indeed would have been the fate of the young
lady were it not for one fortunate circumstance, and that
was that she never dreamt of rising, opening the door,
going on the path of his thoughts, etc. On the contrary,
she slept as peacefully as if an angel had bent over her
and with the movements of her wings had driven away
from her disquieting and feverish dreams. The little
household fairies of Jastrzeb, such as those about which
she spoke to Gronski, also did not disturb her repose.
Perhaps some of them chased the moths from the windows
in order that they might not make any noise by striking
the window-panes; perhaps others, climbing the curtains
and window sashes, gazed at her from a distance with
their keen little eyes and whispered to each other: "Sleep,
little maiden, who played for us on the violin — sleep
— hush — let us not waken her." And though a desire to
turn the pins of the violin and touch the chords with their
tiny fingers may have taken hold of them, they did not,
however, do so, through honesty and hospitality. Through
the openings of the shutters the moonlight streamed in,
brightening the interior and slowly advancing on the oppo-
site wall. The silence was great; only somewhere beyond
the house the night-watch on the premises whistled ; while
within the house the old standing clock, which measured
the lives of several generations, continued to speak with
resignation the "Tick I — Tack ! — Tick I" of the seconds
sinking into the past.

WHIRLPOOLS. 97

And Laskowicz in the course of time issued further com-
mands from his room which reached no one's knowledge.
A strange thing! Inwardly something was telling him
with sober, almost absolute certainty that the maid would
not come and he nevertheless believed that she ought to
have come. Not until a long time elapsed, did the con-
sciousness dawn upon him that if she did not come, then
he, together with his hypnotism, played the role of an addle-
pated fool. Finally fatigue, disaffection, and anger at
himself gripped him. Sleep irrevocably left him. Hour
flew after hour. In the east the sky was deepening and
it was becoming green. Soon the rosy lower border was
striped with the transparent riband of dawn. The young
student, not undressing himself at all, opened the win-
dow to breathe the bracing morning air. In the garden
the first chirp of the birds began, and from the direction
of the not distant pond, with the odor of the acacias, came
the cries of herons and the subdued, as if yet sleepy, quacks
of the wild ducks. After a while the sweep of the well
creaked in the village.

It then occurred to Laskowicz that this was the last day-
break he was to behold in Jastrzeb; that on the morrow
he would wake in the city and would not see either Panna
Marynia or little Anusia whom only, of all the inmates of
that Jastrzeb mansion, he liked; and he felt a little sor-
row. But as he understood that, after the arrival of his
party associates at Rzeslewo and yesterday's visit of the
steward Kapuscinski to Krzycki, it was unavoidable, he
preferred to tender his resignation rather than suffer a
dismissal. With this intention, he decided to write a let-
ter to Ladislaus and inform him that he had enough of
pedagogical work. He foresaw that eventually they would
have to see each other, if only at the payment of the salary,
and as a dispute about principles might arise which might
go very far, he had a revolver ready for certain contin-

98 WHIRLPOOLS.

gencies. He deemed that, before that happened, a dry,
peremptory letter would be a step more consonant with
his pride ; therefore, when it was quite bright, he sat down
immediately to write.

Krzycki awoke, though not in the dusk, nevertheless
with the rise of the sun, for in the country he thus habitu-
ated himself to wake, regardless of whether he retired to
bed early or late. He felt in his bones that he had had too
little rest and, stretching out his arms, he said to himself
that he would be repaid only in case Miss Anney at some
time would learn that he Tost that sleep for her sake and
would pity him, though slightly. Meanwhile he recalled
to his mind all that he was to do that day and formulated
the following plan; he would rouse himself, drive out the
lassitude in his bones ; afterwards, before breakfast, would
drive over to Rzeslewo and "look a little in the eyes of
those worthies;" and if possible talk with the peasants;
later he would return; after breakfast he would finish
with Laskowicz and send him away with the team which
was to bring the physician; the balance of his time, he
would devote to the guests, to writing letters, and to the
farm. He positively determined to go to Rzeslewo, be-
cause, though he agreed in his heart with Dolhanski that
for the nonce he would be unable to accomplish anything,
nevertheless, he did not wish the ladies to think that he
stayed away through fear.

Having arranged everything in this manner, he care-
lessly put on his clothes and, slipping his feet into his
slippers, repaired to the bath-room, without any forebod-
ing that he would meet with an unusual accident and that
he was soon to see, not in truth such an alabaster statuette
as the one Laskowicz was raving about all night, but, at
any rate, something resembling Diana in a fountain. In
the second in which he opened the door he saw streams
of water splashing and beheld under a shower-sprinkler a

WHIRLPOOLS. 99

nude, female figure, strewed with pearls of azure, with
head somewhat inclined, and hands raised to her hair,
whose black waves concealed her face. This lasted only
a twinkle of the eye. A suppressed scream and the slam
of the closed door resounded simultaneously. Krzycki
rushed like the gale for his room; excited and at the
same time shocked, he clutched with shaking hand a
decanter, filled a glass of water, gulped it, and began to
repeat confusedly: "What has happened? Who is she?
For God's sake, what has happened?" In the first mo-
ments he conjectured that she might have been Pani
Otocka, or Marynia, and in such a case the misad-
venture would be appalling. Those ladies would un-
doubtedly leave Jastrzeb at once and it would perhaps be
incumbent upon him to propose marriage to the one whom
he had seen in such paradisiacal shape. "But was it my
fault?" he thought. "Why didn't she lock the door?
There was a bolt." He drank another glass of water to
cool his agitated blood and to think more calmly of what
he was to do and who that nymph was. Somehow after
an interval he reached the conclusion that she could not
have been either of the sisters. Firstly, why should they
rise so early? and again, both were slim, while this form
was stouter and on the whole was built so, that — Oh !
Oh ! Finally, he became satisfied that it surely must have
been no other than the brunette who obstructed his view
of Miss Anney during the mass and whom he met on the
dark walk when returning with Gronski from the hunt.
If such was the case, nothing terrible had happened, but
rather the contrary. It occurred to his mind that those
blue window-panes were an excellent device, for in such a
light the spectacle was delightful. At the thought of this,
he felt the necessity of drinking a third glass of water.
This, however, he did not do, but instead, after an inter-
val, went again to the bath-room, which now was vacant,

100 WHIRLPOOLS.

and after a cool bath dressed himself and hastened to the
stable. There he ordered a horse to be saddled and sped
away on a gallop for adjacent Rzeslewo.

The day was mild; the hour very early. But all na-
ture was already awake and bedewed, bathed in the sun,
she appeared to simply cry out with joy, just as village
maids from an excess of life and health sing unto forget-
fulness, "Oj dana! Ojdana!" Birds carolled until the
leaves on the trees trembled. In the distant oak grove
resounded the coo-cooing ^)f the cuckoo ; yellow thrushes
whistled amidst the boughs of lofty trees ; from the depths
of the forest, sounding like the noise of a sawmill, came
the outcries of an old raven, watching a crowded nest,
while from time to time the shrieks of a jay, resembling a
laugh, burst forth.

Ladislaus rode out of the woods onto the open roadway.
Here on one side was a stretch of waving grain; on the
other a meadow — from which odors of turf and spring
were wafted, — all overgrown with marigold and rose-
campion, quivering in the solar warmth and under the
gentle breath of the wind, as if in delight. This delight,
this widespread joy and luxuriance of life overflowed in
the breast of Ladislaus. He felt within himself such a
vigor of youth and strength that he was prepared to chal-
lenge to a hand-to-hand combat full hundreds of socialists
and at the same time press the whole world to his heart,
especially women under the age of thirty. The white
vision of that Diana, enveloped in a shell of blue pearls,
again began to glide before his eyes, but he now thought
that if, instead of dark tresses on the bowed head of that
goddess, he had seen golden, he would have probably
toppled over.

Amidst such sights and impressions he arrived at
Rzeslewo, where, however, in conformity with Dolhanski's
prediction, he was unable to accomplish anything. The

WHIRLPOOLS. 101

"worthies" whom he wanted to look in the eyes had left
during the night time for the city ; the husbandmen were
in the field, each upon his own patch of ground; the
blinds of the rectory were shut, as the rector for the last
few days was feeling unwell. In the manor out-building
where the laborers dwelt there was not a sign of a living
soul. Later the old keeper of the stockyard informed
him that the hired help, after watering the stock, drove
it out into the pasture and went without asking the per-
mission of any one to a church festival at Brzesno, whither
many of the husbandmen and tenants had also gone.

So, then, here was a strike of farm-hands and open
contumacy, but Krzycki was helpless. He only ordered
the aged keeper of the stockyard to tell the hired help that
there would come to Rzeslewo to establish order certain
gentlemen before whom the vagabonds, who were there
the previous day, would abscond as soon as they heard of
them ; after which he turned back and in half an hour was
in Jastrzeb.

A servant told him that all were still asleep, excepting
Laskowicz, who had charged him with the delivery of a
letter. Krzycki took it and went with it to the office.
Having read its contents, he rang for the servant.

"Was he dressed when he gave you the letter?"

"Yes, sir, and was packing his things."

"Ask him if he can come to my office, and if he can,
request him to step in."

After a while, the young student entered the room.

Krzycki motioned to him to take a seat in the chair,
which was near his desk.

" Good day, sir 1 I learn from your letter that you wish
to leave Jastrzeb and that, at once. I presume that you
have cogent reasons for this step. I therefore regard any
discussion of them as superfluous, and will not detain you.
Here you have what is due to you and the horses will be
ready at any time you desire,"

102 WHIRLPOOLS.

But Laskowicz, who in money matters was extremely
scrupulous, after counting the money, said:

"You are paying me my whole salary, but as I am leav-
ing before the expiration of the term, I am not entitled to
pay for the last month."

And somewhat discourteously he flung the unearned
balance upon the desk.

Krzycki's cheeks quivered slightly about the mustache,
but as he had pledged himself before Gronski that he would
not create any disturbance ajjd had made the same promise
to himself, he quietly replied:

"As you please."

"As for the departure," said Laskowicz, "I would pre-
fer to leave at once."

"As you please," repeated Krzycki. "In an hour I will
send after the physician for my mother and if it is conve-
nient for you, you may go with that team."

"Very well."

"Then the whole thing is settled. I will give orders at
once."

Saying this, he rose and closed the desk, as if he wished
to intimate that the interview was over. Laskowicz glared
at him with eyes blazing with hatred. He did not seek
any broil, but anticipating one, he stood before Krzycki,
bent like a bow. Meanwhile nothing approaching an
altercation occurred and the revolver, which he had ready
for a certain contingency, was of no service to him. There
was no reference even to the letter, though that was indited
in harsh and rude terms. Nevertheless there was some-
thing offensive in the cold tones in which Krzycki spoke,
something insulting in the eagerness with which he accepted
his offer of departure. To Laskowicz, who viewed every-
thing from his own standpoint, it seemed that the icy
conversation accentuated something else, namely, the
attitude of a wealthy man who owned Jastrzeb, a desk

WHIRLPOOLS. 103

filled with money, horses, and equipages, towards a poor,
homeless fellow. But it did not occur to him at that
moment that he on his part had done nothing to improve
their relations, but on the contrary had done a great deal
to make them worse, and that from the time of his arrival
he had shut himself, like a turtle in a shell, in a doctrine
inimical to these people. Everything conduced to stir the
bile within him to such a degree that he actually regretted
that the matter did not end in a personal encounter. But
as in the words of Krzycki there was nothing which gave
him a pretext for one, he abruptly left the room without
any leave-taking and with redoubled rancor.

Ladislaus rang to have the horses ready within an hour,
and as it happened to be Friday, he ordered the gardener
to catch some fish; after which he began to consider
whether the affair with Laskowicz had terminated in a
desirable way. He was pleased and displeased with himself.
He felt a certain satisfaction and even pride in the fact that
he could be laconic and firm, cold but polite, and that he did
not stoop to any ruffianly dispute. But at the same time,
notwithstanding his pride, a certain disrelish remained,
for which he could not account as he was not sufficiently
developed psychologically. He kept repeating to himself
that such scenes are always disagreeable, and so was the
whole business. In reality there was another reason for it.
His whole behavior, which appeared to him so temperate,
sensible, and well-nigh diplomatic, did not emanate from
his temperament, but in direct opposition to his not too
deep, but open and impulsive nature. If he had acted in
keeping with it, he either would have come to blows with
the young student or else would have said something like
this: "You have strewn our path with thorns and have
upset the minds of our people, but since you are leaving,
give me your hand and may you fare well." The one or
the other act would have been more consistent with his

104 WHIRLPOOLS.

character, and he would not have experienced that jarring
which he could not understand, but felt none the less.

But further reflections were interrupted by the servant
with the announcement that breakfast was ready and that
the guest- were at the table. In fact, all had already
assembled in the dining-room, through which pervaded
the odor of coffee and the hum of the samovar. At the
sight of the white dresses of the ladies and their fresh,
well-rested countenances, Ladislaus' soul gladdened to
such an extent that he immediately forgot all squabbles
and vexations. By way of greeting, he kissed Pani Otocka's
hand; then, as if absent-mindedly, that of Miss Anney,
but so forcibly that she reddened like a cherry ; after which
he squeezed Marynia's hand, saluted the gentlemen and
began to cry merrily :

"Coffee ! coffee ! From the rise of the sun I drank only
two glasses of water and I am as hungry as a wolf."

"Was that a cure? Did you have a fever?" asked
Dolhanski.

" Perhaps I did have a fever, but nevertheless. I had a
horseback ride to Rzeslewo and transacted a thousand
matters."

"How is it in ' rustic-angelic' Rzeslewo," interrupted
Dolhanski.

"There is nothing further that is disturbing. Those
trouble makers whom I wished to look at, in the eyes, are
gone. But now above all things, I want coffee and will
not answer any more questions."

Marynia, as the substitute of Pani Krzycki, who re-
mained in bed owing to rheumatism, poured out the
coffee for him, and he also kissed the hand of his young
cousin; whereat she was pleased as she fancied that it
added to her dignity.

"That is due me as a vice-hostess," she said, shaking
her head.

WHIRLPOOLS. 105

"And especially taking age into consideration," added
Dolhanski. •

She did not show him her tongue only because she was
too well-bred.

But Dolhanski, who suffered from catarrh of the
stomach, gazed enviously at Ladislaus, eating with such
relish, and said:

"What an appetite ! A genuine cannibal."

" Go also over the road a mile before breakfast and you
will have the same appetite. But cannibal or no cannibal,
when I entered this room, I was ready to devour even this
bouquet of flowers which is before me."

"The time will come when the country nobility will
not have anything else to eat," replied Dolhanski.

But Marynia quickly seized the bouquet and, laughing,
shoved it to the other side of the table.

"After coffee there is no fear," cried Ladislaus. "But
what beautiful field flowers! Did you ladies pick them?"

"We are sleepy-heads," answered Pani Otocka; "they
were gathered by Aninka's servant."

Aninka was the pet name which both sisters gave Miss
Anney.

Ladislaus turned a sharp glance towards the ladies, but
as their faces were perfectly calm, he thought :

"She gathered the flowers and did not mention the
mishap."

And Miss Anney, turning the bouquet about and ex-
amining it, said:

"An apple-blossom is in the middle, — the good-for-
nothing girl plucked it from some little tree, for which she
must be reprimanded; these are spearwort, those prim-
roses, and those pennyroyal, which are now coming out."

"It is, however, astonishing that you speak Polish so
well," observed Dolhanski; "why, you even know the
names of plants."

I

106 WHIRLPOOLS.

"I heard them from the lips of the village maids in
Zalesin at Zosia's," answered Miss Anney. "Besides, I
evidently possess linguistic abilities for I learned from
them to speak in a rustic style."

"Truly," cried Ladislaus, "could you say something in
peasant fashion. Say something, Miss Anney ! Do 1"
he entreated, folding his hands as if in prayer.

She began to laugh and feigning shyness, bowed her
head and putting the back part of her hand to her fore-
head, as bashful peasants girls usually do, said, drawling
each word somewhat:

"I would do that only I do not dare — "

Laughter and bravos resounded; only Pani Zosia
glanced at her with a peculiar look and she, by becoming
confused, enhanced her beauty to such an extent that
Ladislaus was completely captivated.

"Ah! now one could lose his head," he cried with un-
feigned ardor. "I pledge my word, one could lose his head."

And Gronski, who in common with the others fell into
good humor, said in a low voice :

"And even consummatum est."

But further conversation was interrupted by the rattle
of the carriage wheels which could be heard in the court-
yard and ceased at the balcony.

"What is that?" asked Gronski.

"I am sending for the doctor for Mother," answered
Ladislaus, rising. "Whoever has any errands in the city
may speak."

Dolhanski and Gronski also rose and went out with
him into the vestibule.

"I was about to ask you for a horse," said Gronski. "I
know that you have but one saddle for ladies in Jastrzeb,
so I ordered another one and must receive it in person at
the post-office. I did not want to speak about it before
the ladies as it is to be a surprise."

WHIRLPOOLS. 107

" Good ! " answered Krzycki, " but I will give you another
carriage, for Laskowicz is leaving by this one and you
surely would prefer not to ride with him."

"He?" cried Dolhanski. "You do not know him then.
He is ready to ride with old Aunt Beelzebub, if he could
pull her by the tongue and do all the talking and
descanting."

"There is a little truth in that," said Gronski. "I am
a veritable chatterbox. Indeed, I will willingly go with
Laskowicz and will try to get him into a talkative mood
for, after all, he does interest me. Did you conclude with
him this morning?"

"Yes. I must see Mother for a while and tell her about
it. I finished with him and in addition finished peaceably.
I, at least, was perfectly calm."

"So much the better. Go to your mother and I will go
to my room for a linen duster; for the dust on the road
must be quite thick. I will be back soon."

In fact he returned in a few minutes, dressed in a linen
coat. About the same time a servant brought down
Laskowicz' s trunk, and soon the latter appeared, wrapped
up in himself and gloomy as night, for the thought that he
would not behold his "alabaster statuette" filled him with
pain and sorrow; the more so, as after those hypnotic
exertions, when daylight restored him to his senses, he
began to feel guilty of an offence against her. Instead of
swallowing with unnecessary haste his breakfast in his
room upstairs, he might have come downstairs and gazed
upon Pani Marynia for half an hour longer ; but he had
not wished to do that because, in the first place, he had not
cared to meet Krzycki and, again, he felt that in such
company he would enact the role of Pilate in Credo. At
that moment he regretted that he had not come down and
feasted his eyes with her form for the last time.

But a pleasant surprise awaited him when the young

108 WHIRLPOOLS.

ladies, in the company of Dolhanski and Ladislaus, came
out on the balcony; and afterwards little Anusia, with
whom he was always on friendly terms, having learned
that he was leaving, ran with eyes overflowing with tears,
pouting lips, and a bunch of flowers in her chubby fist to
bid him good-bye. The young student took the flowers
from her, kissed her hand, and with heavy heart sat in the
carriage beside Gronski, who in the meantime was chatting
with Pani Otocka.

Anusia descended the stairs of the balcony and stood
close to the carriage doors r upon perceiving which Mary-
nia hastened after her and, evidently fearing that the
little girl might be jolted when the carriage started to move,
took her hand and began to comfort her.

"Of course he will not forget you," she said, bending
over the little girl, "he surely will write to you and when
he becomes very lonesome, will return."

After which, raising her eyes directly at Laskowicz :

"Is it not true, sir? You will not forget her?"

Laskowicz gazed into the depths of the pellucid pupils
of her eyes, as if he wished to penetrate them to the bottom,
and being really moved, replied with emphasis :

"I will not forget."

"Ah, you see," and Marynia pacified Anusia.

But at that moment Krzycki approached.

"Mother directed me to bid you God-speed." And he
immediately shouted to the driver: "Drive on."

The carriage moved, described a circle in the court-
yard, and disappeared on the avenue beyond the gate.

Miss Anney and the two sisters now went to Pani
Krzycki, desiring to keep her company at breakfast,
which she on the days of her painful suffering ate in bed.
Ladislaus, recalling that he ordered some fish to be caught,
walked directly across the garden towards the pond to see
whether the catch was successful.

WHIRLPOOLS. 109

But before he reached the bank, at a turning of the
shady yoked elm lane, he unexpectedly met his morning's
vision of "Diana in the fountain."

At the sight of him the maid stood still; at first her
countenance flushed as if a live flame passed through it;
after which she grew so pale that the dark down above
her lips became more marked, and she stood motionless,
with downcast eyes and heaving breast, bewildered and
abashed.

But he spoke out with perfect freedom :

"Good-day! good-day! Ah, what is your name?"

"Pauline," she murmured, not raising her eyes.

"A beautiful name." After which, he smiled some-
what roguishly and added:

"But Panna Pauly — the next time — there is a bolt."

" I will drown myself," cried the maid in a hysterical
voice.

And he began to speak in persuasive tones:

"Why? For what? Why, no one is to blame, — that
was a pure accident. I will not tell anybody about it and
that I had seen such beauty; that was only my luck."

And he proceeded to the fishing place.

She followed his shapely form with her tear-dimmed eyes
and stood on the spot for quite a while in reverie, for it
seemed to her that by reason of the secret known to them
alone something had transpired between them which would
unite them forever.

And afterwards when she recollected how that charming
young heir of Jastrzeb had seen her, she shuddered from
head to foot.

110 WHIRLPOOL.

GRONSKI was a man of gentle and kindly disposition.
Notwithstanding his penchant for philosophical pessimism,
he was not a pessimist in his relations to men and life.
Speaking in other words, m theory he often thought like
Ecclesiastes ; in practice he preferred to tread in the foot-
steps of Horace, or rather as Horace would have trodden
had he been a Christian. Continual communing with the
ancient world gave him a certain serenity, not divested
indeed of melancholy, but peaceful and harmonious.
Owing to his high education and extensive reading, which
enabled him to come in contact with all ideas which
found lodgment in the human mind and familiarize him-
self with all forms of human life, he was exceedingly toler-
ant, and the most extreme views did not lead him into that
condition which would cause him to screech like a fright-
ened peacock. This deep forbearance and this convic-
tion that all that is taking place has to occur, did not
deprive him of energy of thoughts or words ; it deprived him,
however, in some measure of the ability to act. He was
more of a spectator than an actor on the world's stage,
but a well-disposed spectator, acutely susceptible and ex-
traordinarily curious. He sometimes compared himself to
a man sitting on the bank of a river and watching its
course, who knows indeed that it must roll on and dis-
appear in the sea, but who is nevertheless interested in the
movements of its waves, its currents, its whirlpools, mists
rising from its depths, and the play of light upon its waters.
Besides his genuine love of ancient languages and authors,

WHIRLPOOLS. Ill

Gronski was interested in politics, science, literature, art,
the contemporary social tendencies, and finally in the
private affairs of mankind; and this last to such an ex-
tent that he was reluctantly charged with undue love of
knowledge of his fellow-men. From this general, lively
curiosity flowed his loquacity and desire to expatiate upon
anything which passed before his eyes. He was well aware
of this, and jocosely justified himself before his friends by
citing Cicero, who according to him was one of the great-
est discoursers and meddlers whose memory is preserved
by history. Aside from these weaknesses, Gronski pos-
sessed a highly developed capacity for sympathizing with
human suffering and human thoughts, and was on the
whole a man of fine sentiment. Poland he loved sincerely
as he wished her to be; that is, noble, enlightened, cul-
tured, as European as possible, but not losing her Lechite
traits, and holding in her hand the flag with the white
eagle. That eagle seemed to him to be one of the noblest
symbols on earth.

Within the compass of his personal 'eelings, as a man
and aesthete, he loved Marynia, but it was a love of a
heavenly-blue hue, not scarlet. At the beginning he ad-
mired within her, as he said, "the music and the dove;"
afterwards, not having any near relatives, he became at-
tached to her like an older brother to a little sister, or as a
father to a child. She, on her part, grateful for this attach-
ment and at the same time esteeming his mind and char-
acter, reciprocated with her whole heart.

In the main, human sympathy and friendship encom-
passed Gronski, for even strangers, even people separated
from him by a chasm of belief and convictions, even those
whom he annoyed with his habit of pressing his forefinger
to his forehead and thinking aloud, esteemed him for his
ability to sympathize, his humanity and forbearance, which
were like the open doors of a hospitable house.

112 WHIRLPOOLS.

Laskowicz also felt this. If he was to ride with Dol-
hanski, for instance, he would have preferred to go afoot
and carry his luggage on his back. But Dolhanski in
Jastrzeb pretended not to see him at all, while Gronski
always greeted him amiably, and several times opened a
conversation with him which never was lengthy for the
reason that Laskowicz limited it and broke it off. Now,
however, sitting beside Gronski he was pleased with his
company. He cherished in his soul a hope that Gronski,
speaking of the persons remaining in Jastrzeb, would say
something about Panna Marynia and he craved to hear
her name. Besides, he was moved by the leave-taking
with little Anusia, for it happened for the first time in his
life that any one bidding him farewell had tears in her
eyes, and he was grateful to the chance which afforded
him an opportunity of exchanging a few words with Panna
Marynia before driving away. So his heart melted and
he was willing to talk sincerely, especially with a man
against whom he felt no antipathy.

Somehow they did not wait long, for they had barely
reached the end of the avenue when Gronski, with the
kind and confidential anxiety of an older man who does
not understand what has taken place and is ready to
grumble, placed his hand upon his knee and said:

"My dear sir, what mischief have you stirred up in
Rzeslewo ? It may now come to some serious collisions,
and it is said that you people intend to do the same every-
where."

"In Rzeslewo we did what the good of our idea de-
manded," answered Laskowicz.

"But an agricultural school is involved and such schools
are absolutely necessary for the people. Why did you
circulate the story among the peasants that the land was
to be divided among them?"

Laskowicz hesitated as to whether to lea,ve the question

WHIRLPOOLS. 113

unanswered, but he was disarmed by Gronski's counte-
nance, at once benevolent and worried, so he replied :

"Every party must keep its eyes upon everything in
order to know what is occurring in the country and take
advantage of its opportunities. In the case of Rzeslewo I
was the eye of the party, and in the further course of time
I acted in accordance with the directions sent to me. In
reality, we could not foresee how the deceased would dis-
pose of his estate. But that is all one. We do not need
schools founded by the classes with which we are at war
and conducted in their spirit."

"You do not need them, but the people need them."

"The people can learn husbandry without the assistance
of the nobility as soon as they own something on which
they can learn. The lands of the nobles will be more
beneficial to them than their schools. They have tilled
that soil of Rzeslewo for hundreds of years, and if you
figure at the rate of one penny for each day's labor, that
land has been paid for a hundred times more than it is
worth."

"But you arouse merely a desire for land; you cannot
give it. Besides, permit me, sir, to say that in respect to
your doctrine you are illogical. For, of course, your aim
is to nationalize the land. Now such land as that of
Rzeslewo, for instance, donated for school purposes is, in
a manner, nationalized; but a partition of it among the
peasants would disintegrate it into individual ownership
by a number of small holders."

"The nationalization of land is our ultimate object,
therefore distant. In the meantime we want to get the
people into our camp, so we use such means as will lead
to that end. We cannot give the land, but the people
themselves can take it."

"The most you can accomplish is to get them to take it.
Assume that in Rzeslewo the husbandmen, tenants, and

8

114 WHIRLPOOLS.

hired hands seize the land and divide it between them.
What follows ? Do you not see the clashes, the knouting,
the courts and sanguinary executions which will overtake
them?"

"Do you not believe that this would be water for our
mill ? The more there is of that, the sooner our end will
be attained."

"And so I guessed rightly," said Gronski, recalling his
statement to Ladislaus and Dolhanski that the summon-
ing of the police would be playing into the hands of the
agitators. *

Laskowicz wanted to ask what Gronski had guessed
rightly, but the latter forestalled him and continued :

"There is another singular thing. If misfortune over-
takes any one of you, whether imprisonment, deportation,
or death, then we, that is, the people who do not belong to
your ranks, the people against whom you have declared
war to the death, say: 'Too bad ! such zeal ! what a pity
— such misguided sacrifice ! how deplorable, — such a
young head !' and we grieve for you. But you do not re-
gret those people whose defenders you proclaim yourself
to be. You arrange industrial strikes and pull the string
until it breaks and later, when the manufacturers tie it
again it becomes shorter than ever before. Already
thousands are dying of starvation. And now you want
an agricultural strike, after which bread becomes dearer
and scarcer. Who suffers by this? Again the people.
Truly at times it is impossible to resist the thought that
you love your doctrines more than the people."

To this Laskowicz answered in a harsh, hollow voice:

"That is war. There must be sacrifices."

Gronski involuntarily looked at him and, seeing his
eyes set so closely to each other, thought:

"No! Such eyes really can only look straight ahead
and are incapable of taking in a wider horizon."

WHIRLPOOLS. 115

For some time they rode in silence. A light southern
breeze rose and bore with the cloud of dust the odor of
the horses' sweat. From thickets on the wayside flew
swarms of horse-flies, which pestered the horses so much
that the coachman brushed their backs with the whip and
swore.

Suddenly Gronski asked :

"Sacrifices ! But to what divinity do you offer those
sacrifices? What is your aim and what do you want?"

"Daily bread and universal liberty."

"But in the meantime, instead of bread, you give them
stones. As to liberty, you will please, sir, take into con-
sideration two thoughts. The first can be expressed thus :
Woe to the nations that love liberty more than fatherland !
Naturally I am not speaking of subjugated nations, for in
such a situation the conceptions of liberty and fatherland
become almost identical. But consider, sir, what really
caused the political downfall of Poland and what is blight-
ing France, which before our eyes is falling apart like a
barrel without hoops? A second thought which often
comes to my mind is that liberty crossing the boundaries
set by national prosperity and safety is necessary only for
rogues. You certainly will regard this last opinion as the
acme of retrogression, but it is none the less the truth."

Laskowicz's face reflected suspicion and offence, but it
was so apparent that Gronski did not allude to him per-
sonally, and was only ennunciating a general view, that
he did not break off further conversation.

"Liberty of association and syndicates," he said, "by
the aid of which the proletariat is defending itself, do not
endure any limitations. You, sir, after all confuse the
conceptions of the people and the empire ; — as a realist
you are concerned above all about the empire."

And Gronski began to laugh:

" I, a realist ? " he said. " I do not belong to the realists.

116 WHIRLPOOLS.

They are not foolish people and on the whole act in good
faith, but they commit one error. They go out to plough
for the spring sowing in December; that is when the
ploughshares cannot break the frozen ground. Or if you
prefer another comparison, they buy their summer cloth-
ing during the severest winter season. I do not know ;
perhaps the sun will at some time shine and it will be
warm, as everything in this world is possible, but in the
meantime the ears are frost-bitten and the moths destroy
the clothes."

And thinking only of th» realists, he continued :

"Realists desire to reckon with this reality, which does
not want to reckon with them or anybody else. For as-
sume, sir, for example, that the name of a faction is Peter
and this Peter in perfect sincerity turns to Reality and
says: 'Listen, oh Maiden! I am prepared to acknowl-
edge you and even love you, but in return permit me to
stand on my own feet, to breathe a little and stretch out
my aching bones/ And Reality with true Ural affability
answers: 'Peter, my son Peter, you are wandering from
the subject, and I take away from you the right to speak.
I am not concerned about your acknowledging or loving
me, but only that you should unbutton yourself, divest
yourself of certain clothes which, speaking parenthetically,
may be of service to me; that you should again lie upon
that bench and as to the rest trust in my power and whip.'
If any realist heard me he might dispute this, but in his
soul, he would concede the justness of the illustration/'

"You will admit, then," exclaimed Laskowicz, with a
certain triumph, "that we alone are hitting this Reality
on the head?"

"You are hitting her," answered Gronski, "but your
fists rebound from her stony head and land in the pit of
your own community, which loses its remnant of breath
and swoons. By this, you even aid Reality."

WHIRLPOOLS. 117

And here recollecting what he had said about the ant-
hills and ant-eaters, he repeated it to Laskowicz.

But Laskowicz would not agree to the comparison, ob-
serving that it had only a specious appearance of the truth,
for the human conditions could not be adjusted by con-
ditions existing in an ant-hill.

"Whoever aspires to make the proletariat powerful by
the same act gives the nation new strength sufficient to
repel all attacks and blows. Only on this road can any-
thing be gained, though only for the simple reason that it
will have allies in the proletariat of adjoining countries,
who from enemies will become friends/'

"That would only be a coalition at the bottom," said
Gronski.

"And for that reason irrepressible and effectual. For
we are continually hearing of Poland ! Poland ! But those
who all the time are repeating that combine with Poland
various things which have outlived their usefulness, such
as religion, church, and conservatism, which cover her
with mould or with corpses which already are rotting.
We alone unite Poland with an idea, powerful, young, and
vital, if only for the reason that all youth is with us."

"In the first place, not all youth, nor even one half,"
answered Gronski; "and again, the church has survived
and will survive many a social movement; and thirdly,
your idea is as ancient as poverty itself on this earth. If
you desire, sir, to contend that the form which La Salle
and Marx gave it is new, then I will answer you thus :
Your modern socialism has too thick tufts of hair on its
scalp, but when it begins to get bald, none will scoff at it
so much as the young."

"You are continually speaking in aphorisms, but for-
tunately aphorisms are like paper lanterns hung on the
trees of dialectics; in the dark they can be seen; in the
broad daylight they are extinct,"

118 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Behold another aphorism, cut and dried," answered
Gronski, laughing. " No, sir, that which I said had another
meaning. I wanted to say that the socialist commonwealth,
if you ever establish one, will be such a surrender of hu-
man institutions, such a jamming of man into the driving-
wheels of the general mechanism, such a restraint and
slavery that even the present kingdom of Prussia, in com-
parison, would be a temple of liberty. And in reality, a
reaction would set in at once. The press, literature,
poetry, and art, in the name of individualism and its free-
dom, would declare an inexorable war; and do you know,
sir, who would carry the banner of the opposition ? Youth I
That is as true as that those lapwings are now flying over
that meadow."

And here he pointed at a flock of lapwings, hovering
over a field on which cattle were grazing. After which
he added :

"In France it is already beginning. Not long ago a
few thousand students paraded the streets of Paris, shout-
ing : ' Down with the Republic 1 ' '

"That is merely swinging around in a circle," replied
Laskowicz; "that was a clash with radicalism and not
with us. We also despise it. The bourgeoisie imagine
that radicalism in a certain emergency will shield them
from the revenge of the proletariat, but they are deceiving
themselves. In the meanwhile they are clearing the way
for the revolution."

"In this I admit you are right;" answered Gronski,
"I saw in Cairo how the sals ran before the carriages of
the pashas shouting, ' Out of the way ! Out of the way I '
Radicalism is performing the same service for you."

"Yes," corroborated Laskowicz, with a brightened
countenance.

Gronski took off his spectacles to wipe off the dust and
winked his eyes.

WHIRLPOOLS. 119

"But amongst you there are also differences. The
French socialism is different, so is the German, and the
English, and in their midst we find opposing camps. For
that reason I shall not speak of socialism in general. I am
only interested in the home product, of which you are an
agent; for, from what you have said, I infer that you
belong to the so-called Polish Socialistic party."

"Yes," answered Laskowicz with energy.

Gronski replaced the cleaned spectacles and unfurled
all his sails:

"You claim, therefore, that in the name of Poland you
have joined youth with a powerful idea, through which
you have infused into her veins new blood. And I reply
that this idea, whatever it may be, has degenerated in your
minds to the extent that it ceased to be a social idea and
has become a social disease. You have infected Poland
with a disease and nothing more. The new Polish edifice
must be constructed with bricks and stones and not with
bombs and dynamite. And in you there is neither brick
nor stone. You are only a shriek of hatred. You have
abandoned the old gospels and are incapable of creating
a new one ; in consequence of which you cannot offer any
pledge of life. Your name is Error and for that reason
the resultant force of your activities will be contrary to
you presuppositions. By pulling the strings of strikes you
lead the people to naught else than to debility and wretched-
ness and from feeble beggars you are not able to build a
powerful Poland. That is the actual fact. Besides, on
one and the same head you cannot wear two caps unless
one is underneath. So I ask which is underneath? Is
your socialism only a means of building Poland? Or is
your Poland only a bait and catchword to gather the people
into your camp? The socialists, who call themselves
socialists without any qualifications and do not insist that
the same entity can be fish and fowl at the same time,

120 WHIRLPOOLS.

are, I admit, more logical. But you mislead the people.
The truth is that even if you wanted to you could not do
anything Polish, for there is nothing Polish in you. The
schools from which you graduated did not take away the
language, for they could not do that, but they molded your
minds and souls in such a manner that you are not Poles, '
but Russians despising Russia. How Poland and Russia
will fare by this is another matter, but such is the case. To
you it seems that you are making a revolution, but it is an
ape of a revolution, and in addition a foreign one. You
are the evil flower of a foreign spirit. It is enough to take
your periodicals, your writers, poets, and critics! Their
whole mental apparatus is foreign. Their real aim is not
even socialism nor the proletariat, but annihilation. —
Firebrand in hand, and at the bottom of their souls hope-
lessness and the great nihil ! And of course we know
where it originated. The Galician socialism likewise is not
an Apollo Belvedere, but nevertheless it has different linea-
ments and less broad cheek-bones. There is not in it this
rabidness and also this despair and sorrow which conflicts
with the Latin culture. You are like certain fruit: on
one side green, on the other rotten. You are sick. That
sickness explains the limitless want of logic, based on this ;
that crying against wars, you create war; decrying courts-
martial, you condemn without any trial ; and denouncing
capital punishment, you thrust revolvers in the hands of
the people and say, 'Kill.' This disease also explains your
insane outbreaks, your indifference to consequences, and
to the fate of those ill-fated men whom you make your
tools. Let them assassinate, let them rob the treasuries,
but whether later they will hang in the halter is a matter of
little consequence to you. Your nihil permits you to spit
upon blood and ethics. You open wide the doors to notori-
ous scoundrels and allow them to represent not their own
villany, but your idea. You, generally speaking, carry

WHIRLPOOLS. 121

ruin with you and join Poland to that ruin. In your party
there are, without doubt, men of conviction and good
faith, but blind, who in their blindness are serving a differ-
ent master than they imagine."

Gronski knew that he was speaking in vain, but whether
from habit, or because he wanted to relieve himself of all
that had accumulated within him, he talked until the rattle
of the wheels on the city pavements drowned his words.
They parted rather coldly before the hotel, for Gronski's
views touched the young medical student to the quick. He
did not admit that Gronski was in the least right, but that
such views should be entertained filled him with rage and
indignation. He indeed said to himself, "It is not worth
while answering, but our minds are not foreign, and our
idea is new. Society is like a person who, having for many
years lived in a house, is always reluctant to move into
another though that other is much better." Nevertheless
the words of Gronski stung him so deeply that at that
moment he hated him as much as he did Krzycki and
would have given a great deal if he could trample upon
and crush the charges, so odious to him. Unfortunately
for him he lacked time for it, and besides, weariness after a
sleepless night began to overpower him more and more.

Gronski went to the post-office, received a package
with the saddle, and afterwards drove to the doctor's, but
learning that the latter would not be free for an hour, he
left the carriage at his door and went to visit the old notary
and at the same time deliver to him an invitation from
Krzycki to visit Jastrzeb.

The notary was pleased to receive the invitation, as he
had decided to visit the Krzyckis without one, in order, as
he said, to behold the "eyes of his head" and hear her
miracle-working violin. In the meantime he began to
speak about the events which had occurred in the city and
neighborhood. He was so impressed and affected by them

122 WHIRLPOOLS.

that his customary choler left him, and in his words there
was an undertone of bitter sorrow and heavy anxiety for
the future of the community, which seemed to have lost
its head. Factory strikes and to some extent agricultural
strikes were spreading. In the city the lime-kilns had
ceased to burn and the cement works were at a standstill.
The workingmen, who, not having any savings, formerly
lived from hand to mouth, in the first moments lacked
bread. After the example of Warsaw, a local committee
was organized for the purpose of collecting funds to pre-
vent starvation. But as a result, this peculiar situation
was created: the people most opposed to the cessation of
work encouraged it by furnishing food to the idle. "A
veritable round of errors!" said the worried old gentle-
man. "Do not give; then starvation follows and despair
hurls the workingman into the arms of the socialists ; give,
and you also are playing into their hands, because they
have something with which to support the strike and can
convince the people of their omnipotence." He further
related that outside of the committee the socialists were
collecting money, or rather were extorting it from the
timid by threats; that they called upon him but he told
them that he would give for bread but not for bombs.
They then threatened him with death, for which he had
them thrown out of his office.

For a while he remained silent for the inborn choler
assumed supremacy over sorrow; he also began to roll
his eyes angrily and moved his jaws furiously, as if he
wanted to eat all the socialists, together with their red
standard.

Afterwards, when his rage had spent itself, he continued :
" Day before yesterday they sent me a sentence of death
which they surely will execute, as they have declared war
against the government and they butcher their own country-
men. Well, that is a small matter ! Three days ago they

WHIRLPOOLS. 123

killed a master tinner and two workingmen in the cement
factory. In Wilczodola, a few versts from here, they way-
laid and maimed Pan Baezynski and robbed the branch
office of the governmental whiskey monopoly besides.
Szremski, that doctor for whom you came and whose
optimism sticks like a bone in my throat, says that it is
but a passing storm ! Yes, everything does pass away,
individuals as well as whole nations. I fear that ours
too is passing away ; for we have become a nation of bandits
and banditism never can be a permanent institution. Well !
The people, after these acts of violence, have in reality
become tired of robbing for the benefit of their party and
now prefer to rob on their own account. Do I know
whether we will arrive alive at Krzyckis to-day ? Bah I
Krzycki ought to be more on his guard than any one else.
He passes for a rich man and for that reason they will
keep him in their eye. I will go to Jastrzeb for if I am to
be assassinated, before it takes place I want to hear once
more our child-wonder. But in truth, Krzycki, instead
of inviting more guests, should dismiss those who are
staying there now. The doctor, if he had any sense,
would find an excuse for dispersing them all to-morrow."

"I heard that he is an excellent man," said Gronski.

"An excellent devil!" answered the notary. "You
remember whom you have among you, and it is only about
her that I am concerned."

Gronski, though disquieted and distressed by Dzwon-
kowski's narrative, could not refrain from laughing when
he heard the last admonition, for translated into plain
words it meant, "May the deuce impale you all, if only no
evil befalls the little violinist." But whenever Marynia
was involved he himself was always willing to subscribe to
similar sentiments; therefore he began to pacify the aged
official by telling him that in Jastrzeb there were, counting
the guests and manor people, too many hands and too

124 WHIRLPOOLS.

many arms to have any fears of an attack; and that,
besides, Pani Krzycki's probable departure would end the
visit of the guests. Further conversation was broken by the
arrival of Doctor Szremski who, having dashed in like a
bomb, announced that he was free for the remainder of
the day and could ride with Gronski.

Gronski gazed at him with great interest, for even in
Warsaw he heard of him as an original and prominent
personality, in the favorable meaning of those words.

He was quite a young man, with tawny hair, swarthy
like a gypsy, with a countenance alive with fire, bubbling
with health, somewhat loud and brisk in his manners.
In the city he played an uncommon r6le not only because
he had the largest medical practice, but because he belonged
to the most active men in any field. He entered into every
project as if to an attack, and thanks to a sober and an
exceptional temper of mind, whatever he did was done,
on the whole, sensibly and well. He was, as it were, a
personification of that phenomenon, frequent in Poland,
where, when amidst a public not only trammelled but neg-
ligent and indolent by nature, a man of energy and with
an idea is found, he is able to accomplish more than any
German, Frenchman, or Englishman could have done. He
himself participated in every undertaking and compelled
others to work with such spirit that he was nicknamed
"Doctor Spur." He established secret schools, reading
rooms, nurseries for the children, economical associations,
and for everything he gave money, of which he earned a
great deal, though he treated gratis throngs of the penni-
less. The local socialists hated him, for by his popularity
and influence with the workingmen he frustrated their
efforts. The authorities looked at him with suspicion and
with an evil eye. A man who loved his country, organ-
ized life, spread enlightenment, and donated money for
public uses, must in their eyes be a suspicious character

WHIRLPOOLS. 125

and deserved at least deportation to a "distant province."
Fortunately for him, the governor's wife imagined that
she was suffering from some nervous ailment and the local
captain of the gendarmery was actually troubled with
incipient aneurism of the aorta. So then the governor's
wife, who through her connections had made her husband
governor and ruled the province as she pleased, was of the
opinion that if it were not for this " I'homme qui rit " (as
she called the doctor), eternal mourning would have be-
fallen the governor, and the captain of the gendarmes
feared alike the gubernatorial connections and the aneur-
ism. He had indeed prepared a report which he regarded
as the masterpiece of his life; and perhaps he became ill
because he dared not send it to the higher authorities.
Sometimes in his dreams, he arrested the doctor, subjected
him to an examination, forced him to divulge his accom-
plices, and dreamt also that the report might be used in
case the governor and himself were transferred to another
province ; but it was only a dream. In reality the report
reposed on the bottom of a drawer and the doctor, who
read it (for the captain showed it to him in proof of what
he could have done but did not do), laughed so ingenuously
and was so confident of himself that it occurred to the
captain's mind that in reality there was no joking with the
governor's wife or the aneurism.

The doctor laughed because he was by nature unusually
jovial. In certain cases he could think and speak gravely,
but at chance meetings and at casual talks, in which
there was no time for weighty discourse, he preferred to slide
over the surface of the subject, scatter jests, and tell anec-
dotes, which later were repeated over the city, and which
he himself much enjoyed. His optimism and beaming
countenance created incurable optimism and hope and
good thoughts wherever he appeared. He joked with
the sick about their sickness and with jokes dispelled

126 WHIRLPOOLS.

their fears. His mirth won the people and a well-grounded
medical knowledge and efficacious watchfulness over their
health and lives assured him a certain kind of sway
over them. For this reason he did not mind the "big
fish," or in fact anybody. Such was the case with the no-
tary whose perpetual choler and irascibility were known
all over the city, so that social relations with him were main-
tained only by those who were exceptionally interested in
music. The doctor, who also cracked jokes about music,
sought his company, purposely to nettle him and afterwards
to tell about his outbreaks, to his own amusement and that
of his hearers.

And now he rushed in with the crash of a squall, became
acquainted with Gronski, asked about the health of Pani
Krzycki and about the pretty ladies staying in Jastrzeb
of whom he had already heard ; after which, observing the
distressed face of the notary, he exclaimed merrily :

"What a mien ! Is it so bad with us in this world, or
what? Seventy-five years! A great thing! Truly it is
not the age of strength, but it is the strength of the age I
Please show your pulse I"

Here, without further asking the notary, he grabbed his
hand, and pulling out his watch, began to count :

"One, two — one, two! — one, two! Bad! It is the
pulse of one in love. There are symptoms of a slight
heartburn! Such is usually the case. Such a machine
cannot last more than twenty-five years, — at the most
thirty. Thank you!"

Saying this he dropped the old man's hand, whose
mien brightened in expectation, for he thought that
twenty-five years added to what he had already lived
would make quite a respectable age.

Pretending, however, to scowl, he answered:

"Always those jokes ! The doctor thinks that I care for
those wretched twenty-five years. It is not worth while

WHIRLPOOLS. 127

living now. Of course you know what is taking place.
I have such a mien because I was just talking with Pan
Gronski about it. I also have a heartburn. Well, I ask
what will become of us if all the people should follow the
socialists ?"

But the doctor began to swing his arms and deny this
categorically. Not all the people, nor a half, nor a hun-
dredth part. And even those who say that they belong to the
socialists say so under terror or through misapprehension.

"I will give you gentlemen two examples," he said. "I
live on a lower floor and beneath me in the basement there
is a locksmith's shop. This morning I overheard frag-
ments of a conversation between my servant and the lock-
smith. The locksmith said, 'I am a socialist; there is
nothing more to be said about it.' 'Why is nothing more
to be said?' said my servant. 'Then you do not believe
in God and do not love Poland.' 'And why should I not
believe in God and love Poland ? ' ' Because the socialists
do not believe in God and do not love Poland.' And the
locksmith replied, 'So? Then may sickness plague them.'
That is the way people belong to the socialists. I do not
say all, but a great many. Ha 1"

And he began to laugh.

"The doctor always finds an anecdote," grumbled the
notary; "but let us tell the truth, thousands belong to
them."

"Then why do they not elect one deputy in the king-
dom?" retorted the doctor. "Bombs explode loudly, so
they can be heard better than any other work. But how
many thousands participated in the national parade?
Do these also belong to them ? When in a factory ten men
manage to hang a red flag on the chimney it seems that the
whole factory is red, but that is not true."

"Why do not the others tear it down?"

"Simple reason! Because the police tear it down."

128 WHIRLPOOLS.

"And also because the socialists have revolvers and the
others have not," added Gronski.

" Undoubtedly," continued the doctor. " I have ten times
closer relations with the workingmen than any manager
of a factory. I go into their dwellings and know their home
life. I know them. Socialism is engaged in a struggle
with the bureaucracy; so it seems to many that they
belong to it. But, to the outrages only the worst and
most ignorant element assents. The latter soon change
into bandits, and that is not surprising. Their consciences
have been taken away from, them and revolvers are given
to them. But the majority — the better and more honest
majority — have under the ribs Polish hearts; and for
that reason this demon, who wants to snatch and carry
them away, called himself, as a bait, Polish. Ah! they
only need schools, enlightenment, a knowledge of Polish
history, in order not to allow themselves to be hoodwinked !
Ay, that is what they need ! Ay, ay !"

And in his gesticulations, he seized the old man's arm
and began to turn him around.

"Schools, Pan Notary, schools; for the Lord's mercy!"

Blood rushed to the notary's head from indignation.

"Are you crazy I" he yelled. "Why do you jolt me like
a pear?"

"True," said the doctor, leaving him alone. "True, but
the extent to which these poor fellows misapprehend things
is enough to cause one to weep and laugh at the same time."

"No, not to laugh," said Gronski.

"Do you know, sir, that at times, yes," exclaimed the
doctor; "for listen to my second instance. Last Sunday,
being tired as a dog, I drove out to the Gorczynski woods,
just outside of the city, for a little airing. In the woods
from the opposite direction came more than a dozen of
workingmen who evidently were enjoying a May outing.
I saw one of them carrying a red flag on a newly whittled

WHIRLPOOLS. 129

stick. He probably brought it in his pocket and fastened
it when they got to the woods. 'Good!' I thought to
myself, 'Socialists !' And now, when they were near, the
one who carried the flag sang lustily to the tune of 'Bar-
toszu ! Bartoszu!' that which I will repeat to you, and
I pledge my word, I will not add or subtract anything.

' Kosciuszko, though a cobbler,
Oj, soundly thrashed the Germans,
Oj, soundly thrashed the Germans;
Only, it is a great pity
For us, that he drowned.
Only it is a great pity
For us, that he drowned.'"

"Ah, honest simplicity !" exclaimed Gronski. "I would
embrace him and present him with a history of Poland of
recent times."

"Wait, sir," shouted the doctor. "I stopped my so-
cialists of strange rites. It appeared that almost all were
known to me and I said: 'For the fear of God, citizens,
Kosciuszko was not a cobbler, he never thrashed the
Germans, and he did not drown, only Prince Joseph
Poniatowski did. Come to me and I will give you a book
about Kosciuszko, Kilinski,1 and Prince Joseph Ponia-
towski, for you have made of them a bigos.2 They began
to thank me and then I asked: 'What has become of the
eagle on your flag? did he go hunting for mushrooms?'
They became confused. The flag-bearer started to ex-
plain why they had no eagle. 'Why, may it please the
doctor/ he said, ' they told us : Do not take a flag with an
eagle, for if they take the flag away from you, they will

1 Kilinski was one of the bravest and most popular heroes
who fought under Kosciuszko. He was a shoe-maker by trade.
— TRANSLATOR.

8 Bigos : a Polish dish of hashed meat and cabbage. —
TRANSLATOR.

9

130 WHIRLPOOLS.

insult the eagle and you will suffer shame and disgrace/
Yes. In this manner they cheat the Polish heart of our
own people."

But the notary did not want to part with his black spec-
tacles.

" Well, what of it ? " he asked. " Do you claim that if it
was not for this and that there would not be any socialism
amongst us ? "

"There is socialism over the entire world/' rejoined
the doctor, "therefore there must be with us. Only if it
was not for this and that, there would not accompany it
highway robbery, savagery, and blindness; there would
not be this modern socialism which has styled itself Polish,
though its pitch can be smelt a mile away."

" Bravo ! " cried Gronski. " I said the same thing in other
words to another person on the road from Jastrzeb."

"Ay, Jastrzeb/' said the doctor looking at his watch.
"Here we are talking and it is time that we started."

"Perhaps the notary can go with us," said Gronski.
"The carriage has seats for four."

"I can. Only I will take my flute with me. Well!"
answered the notary.

"Well !" repeated Szremski, mimicking him. "Aha, the
flute! Then there will be a serenade in Jastrzeb, while
here the socialists will rob the office."

.The notary who was going after his flute, suddenly
turned around, sniffed vehemently, and said:

"To-day they sent me a sentence of death."

"Bah I I already have received two of them," merrily
answered the doctor.

A quarter of an hour later they were on the road to
Jastrzeb. On this occasion, Gronski and the doctor
drew so closely to each other and talked so much, that, as
Gronski said later, there was not a place in which to stick
a pin.

WHIRLPOOLS. 131

XI

THE distance between the city and Jastrzeb was not more
than a mile and a half. For this reason Gronski, the
notary, and Szremski reached their destination before
four o'clock. They were expected for dinner but in the
meantime Ladislaus conducted the ladies over the saw-
mill; so the doctor repaired to Pani Krzycki and Gronski
ordered the saddle unpacked and taken to Marynia's
room. In a half hour the young company returned and,
greeting the notary, assembled in the salon to await the
dinner. The notary at the sight of Marynia forgot all
about death sentences, about the outrages perpetrated in
the city, about socialism and the whole world and, after
kissing her hand, appropriated her exclusively for him-
self. Gronski began to initiate Pani Otocka into the
reasons of his trip to the city, while Krzycki conversed
with Miss Anney and became as engrossed with her as
if there were no one else in the room. It was apparent
that his exclamation on that morning that "one could
lose his head" was but a confirmation of a symptom which
intensified more and more with each moment. His un-
commonly handsome young face glowed as if from the
dawn, for in his bosom he did have the dawn of a new,
happy feeling, which beamed through the eyes, the smile
on the lips, through every motion, and through the words
he addressed to Miss Anney. The spell held him more
and more; a secret magnet drew him with steadily in-
creasing power to this light-haired maid, looking so young,
buxom, and alluring. He did not even attempt to resist

132 WHIRLPOOLS.

that power. Gronski observed that he evinced his rapture
too plainly and that in the presence of his mother he should
have acted with more circumspection. Miss Anney also
felt this, as from time to time blushes suffused her coun-
tenance and she pushed back her chair a little, besides
glancing about at those present as if in fear that the ex-
cessive affability of the young host towards her might
attract too much attention. But the matter, however, was
agreeable to her, for in her eyes a certain joy flamed.
Only Dolhanski gazed at her from time to time; the
others were mutually occupied.

The appearance of the doctor ended the conversations.
Krzycki, after introducing him to the ladies, together with
them began to inquire about the health of the patient,
but the doctor was evidently disinclined to speak at any
length, for he answered in a few words and in accordance
with his habit spoke so loudly that Dolhanski, in his sur-
prise, placed the monocle on his eye.

"Nothing serious! Monsummano! Monsummano! or
something like that ! I will prescribe everything ! Noth-
ing serious ! Nothing I"

"But what is Monsummano?" asked Ladislaus.

"That is a warm hole in Italy in which rheumatism is
boiled out. A kind of purgatory after which salvation
follows ! Besides Italy, a delightful journey I I will pre-
scribe everything in detail."

Gronski, who often had travelled over Italy, also knew
this place and began to describe it to the curious ladies.
In the meantime Ladislaus talked about his mother's
health with the doctor, who, however, listened to him in-
attentively, repeating, "I will prescribe everything," shak-
ing his head, and looking about him, as if with curiosity,
at each of the ladies in rotation. Suddenly he slapped his
hand on his knee with a thwack which could be heard all
over the room and exclaimed :

I

WHIRLPOOLS. 133

"What marvellous faces there are in Jastrzeb and what
skulls! Ha!"

Dolhanski dropped his monocle, the ladies looked
amazed, but Krzycki began to laugh.

"The doctor has a habit of thinking aloud," he said.

"And bawling out yet more loudly," grumbled £ne
notary.

"How is your flute?" the doctor replied, laughingly.

But at that moment the servant announced that dinner
was ready. Hearing this, Pani Otocka turned with a
peculiar smile to her sister and said :

"Marynia, your hair is all disheveled. Look at your-
self in a glass."

The young lady raised her hands to her head, but as
there were no mirrors in the salon, she, a little confused,
said:

"Beg pardon, I will return immediately."

She hastened to her room, but soon returned still more
confused with blushes and with a radiant countenance.

"A ladies' saddle !" she began to cry, "a most beautiful
ladies' saddle I"

And passing her eyes over those present, she pointed at
Gronski :

"Was it you?"

"I confess," said Gronski, spreading out his hands and
bowing his head.

She, on her part, had such a desire to kiss his hand
that if the doctor and the notary had not been present,
she certainly would have done so. In the meanwhile she
began to thank him with effusive and perfectly childish
glee.

"I see, Panna Marynia, that you are fond of horseback
riding," said Szremski.

"I am fond of everything."

"There you have it," cried the amused doctor.

134 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Only secure a gentle horse; otherwise it will not be
hard to meet with accidents," observed the notary.

It soon became apparent that such a one could be pro-
cured, for on the economical Jastrzeb estate horses were
the only item of which a strict account was not kept.
Krzycki indeed maintained that they could be bred prof-
itably, but he did not breed them for gain but from that
traditional love of them, the immoderateness of which
the reverend Skarga,1 a few centuries before, censured in
his ancestors in the eloquent words: "Dearer to you is
the offspring of a mare than the Son of God I" Horses
therefore were not wanting in Jastrzeb and the conversa-
tion about them and horsemanship continued, to the great
dissatisfaction of the notary, throughout the whole dinner.
Those present learned that Marynia was not entirely a
novice, for at Zalesin, at her sister's, she rode in summer
time almost daily in the company of the old manager on a
clumsy, lanky pony, named Pierog. Her sister would not
permit her to ride on any other horse and "what enjoy-
ment could there be riding on Pierog?" She stated that
this Pierog had a nasty habit of returning home, not when
she wanted to, but when he desired to, and no urging nor
threats could swerve him from his purpose when once
formed. She also sincerely envied Miss Anney who rode
so well and had ridden all the horses in Zalesin, even those
unaccustomed to the saddle. But in England all the
ladies ride on horseback, while with us somebody is worry-
ing about somebody else. She hoped, however, that in
Jastrzeb with so many skilled riders, "Zosia" will not
have any fears about her; and that immediately after
dinner they will go on an equestrian excursion and that
she will be allowed to join the party, without, thank God,
Pierog.

1 Peter Skarga was the most famous pulpit orator in the
history of Poland. — TRANSLATOR.

WHIRLPOOLS. 135

Ladislaus, in whom expectations of distant horseback
jaunts in Miss Anney's company had excited fond hopes,
and whom, as well as the others, the story about Pierog
had put into good humor, turned to Marynia and said :

"I will give you a horse with iron legs, who is called
' Swimmer' because he can swim excellently. As for an
excursion, the day is long and we could arrange one, if it
were not that it is beginning to get cloudy."

"It will surely clear up," answered Marynia, "and
I will dress myself right after dinner."

In fact, after dinner the guests were barely able to finish
their black coffee before she appeared on the veranda,
dressed in a black, tight-fitting riding-habit. In it she
was simply charming, but so slender and tall that Gronski,
gazing at her with his usual admiration, was the first to
begin jesting:

"A real little flute," he said. "The wind will carry off
such a woodcock, especially since it is commencing to
blow."

And a strong blast of the western, warm wind really
began to bend the tree-tops and drive here and there over
the heavens clouds which on the azure background as-
sumed large, ruddy, and globular forms.

Ladislaus, however, gave orders to saddle the horses
and soon thereafter hastened to the stables to supervise
the work. Miss Anney went upstairs to change her
clothes; Gronski and Dolhanski followed her example.
On the veranda remained only Pani Zosia, the doctor, the
notary, and, attired as an equestrienne, Marynia, who cast
uneasy glances alternately at the stables and at the sky,
which was becoming more and more cloudy. After a
time the first drops of rain began to fall and immediately
thereafter a more important hindrance to their excursion
occurred, for unexpectedly neighbors from Gorek, Pani
Wlocek and daughter, the same who attended the funeral

136 WHIRLPOOLS.

of Zarnowski, arrived in a carriage. In view of this, the
horseback jaunt had to be abandoned.

The Wlocek ladies came to ascertain the condition of
Pani Krzycki's health and at the same time to beg Ladis-
laus for advice and succor, for in Gorek an agricultural
strike had suddenly broke out among the manor and
farmhouse laborers. The old coachman could hardly be
induced to drive them to Jastrzeb for he was threatened
with a beating. Both ladies were much frightened, much
powdered, and more pathetic than ever. After the first
greetings, mutual introductions, and a short talk about
Pani Krzycki's rheumatism, the mother, at the after-dinner
tea, addressed Ladislaus in doleful terms, adjuring him
to hasten, like a knight of old, to the defence of oppressed
innocence. She said that she was not concerned about
herself, as after the losses she had survived and the suffer-
ing she had undergone, "the silent grave" in the Rzeslewo
cemetery was the most appropriate refuge for her; but
an orphan remained .who still had some claims upon life.
Let him extend some friendly protection and shield from
blows and attacks this lone orphan for whom she herself
was ready to sacrifice her life. To this the orphan replied
that she too was not concerned about herself but about
the peace of Mamma ; — and in this manner the conversa-
tion changed almost exclusively in to a dialogue between
these ladies in which the words, " Allow me, child," " Per-
mit me, Mamma," were repeated every minute and in
which the immoderate willingness of both parties to be
immolated became in the end almost tart. Ladislaus,
knowing these ladies of old, listened gravely; Pani Zosia
looked at the bottom of her cup, not daring to glance at
Marynia, who contracted the corners of her mouth; the
notary sniffed and chewed; and the doctor ejaculated his
"Ha!" with such resonance that the flies whisked off the
net mantle which covered the butter and pastry.

WHIRLPOOLS. 137

But, in the meanwhile, out-of-doors the storm and
thunder began to rage and interrupted the sacrificial dia-
logue between mother and daughter. The rooms dark-
ened ; on the windows for a time the patter of the shower
was heard; and the lightning illuminated the cloudy
firmament. But this lasted a brief while; after which
Ladislaus began to reply and promise aid to the ladies,
always with becoming gravity but at the same time with a
peculiar kind of expression on his face which portended
that the young wag had a surprise concealed in his bosom.
He announced, therefore, that he was ready to mount a
horse and invest Gorek with his care ; afterwards he quieted
the ladies with the assurances that the manifestations which
had so alarmed them were transient; that in Rzeslewo, it
was temporarily the same, but that undoubtedly within a
short time means of foiling that evil would be found. In
conclusion he turned to Pani Wlocek and, pointing at Dol-
hanski, unexpectedly said :

"I do not know whether my protection will be effective
for I must watch at the same time over Rzeslewo and over
Jastrzeb, in which at present we have such agreeable
guests. But here is Pan Dolhanski, a man well known
for his courage, energy, and sagacity, who has given me the
best advice about Rzeslewo. If he wished to aid you or
if he agreed to take into his hands the affairs of Gorek
and Kwasnoborz, I am certain that he would establish
order there in the course of a few days, and under his wings,
ladies, no dangers could befall you."

All eyes, and particularly the eyes of the mother and
daughter, were now directed at Dolhanski. But if Ladis-
laus, who wanted to revenge himself on him for his "of-
ficiousness," calculated that he would get him into an
unexpected scrape, he was mistaken, for Dolhanski coolly
bowed to the ladies from Gorek and replied, drawling
each word as usual:

138 WHIRLPOOLS.

"With the greatest pleasure, but we must wait until the
rain stops."

"Then, sir, you agree to be our knight?" cried Pani
Wlocek, extending her hands towards him and at the
same time gazing at him with a suddenly awakened curi-
osity and surprise.

"With the greatest pleasure," repeated Dolhanski;
"the strike will be over to-morrow."

His complete self-assurance impressed everybody, par-
ticularly the ladies from Gorek. At the same time, the
cold tone in which he spoke affected Pani Wlocek so
much that for a while she lost her usual pathetic volubility
and after an interval she replied:

"In the name of an orphan, I thank you."

But the orphan apparently preferred to thank him her-
self, for she stretched out both hands towards Dolhanski
and after a brief silence, which might be explained by her
emotions, spoke in a voice resembling the rustle of leaves :

"I am concerned about mamma."

"So am I," Dolhanski assured her.

But the mother and daughter now turned to each other :

"Allow me, child; here I am nothing."

"Permit me, Mamma; Mamma is everything."

"But I beg pardon, child—"

"Pardon me, Mamma, — "

And the strife about the burnt offerings began anew.
It did not, however, last long, as, firstly, the doctor began
to make so much noise that they could be heard with
difficulty and then, Pani Krzycki, whom the young physi-
cian permitted to rise and move to an armchair, sent a
message asking the ladies to visit her. After their depart-
ure the doctor went to the office to write out specifically
where and how the cure should be conducted; the notary
became occupied with his flute in the vestibule. Gronski,
Dolhanski, and Ladislaus for a while remained alone.

WHIRLPOOLS. 139

Then Dolhanski addressed Ladislaus:

"What are these Gorek and Kwasnoborz?"

"About fifteen hundred acres, and there is also Zabi-
anka."

"So I have heard. And the soil?"

"Almost the same as at Rzeslewo. In Zabianka it is
said to be better."

"So I have heard. The state of the fortune?"

"Bad and good. Bad, because these ladies will not
invest in anything. Good, because they have no debts
and every penny which flows from the husbandry, after
it gets into the stockings, never beholds daylight
again."

"That is what I have been waiting for," said Dolhanski.

"They are as stingy as they are pathetic, and who
knows whether they are not stingier?"

"Let them hoard."

And Gronski began to laugh and quoted:

"Sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves — sic vos non vobis
mellificates apes — "

"Yes," said Dolhanski.

After which suddenly to Gronski :

"To-morrow I will propose for the hand of Cousin
Otocka."

"To-day you are full of surprises," replied Gronski.

"Wait ! And I will be given the mitten."

"Without any doubt."

"But I want to have a clear conscience. After which
I will drive over to Gorek."

"That is already known. And you will quell the agi-
tated waves of a strike."

"In the course of a day. As you see me here."

After which he pointed at Ladislaus.

"That simplex servus Dei became unwittingly an in-
strument in the hands of Providence. The Lord often

140 WHIRLPOOLS.

avails Himself of pigmies. For this, when you become
bankrupt in Jastrzeb, apply to me at Gorek."

"Provided that before that time you are not reduced
to the same level," responded Ladislaus, laughing. "You
are an excellent leveller."

"We live in an age of universal levelling. But what is
Panna Wlocek's Christian name?"

"Kajetana."

"Plait-il?"

" Kajetana," repeated Krzycki. " Her father's Christian
name was Kajetan and slje was named in memory of
him."

"Tell me then why that well-stocked Kajetana pre-
served herself in her virgin state until the age of thirty or
more?"

"Thirty-five, to be accurate. That is what my mother
said not long ago. She remembers the day of her birth.
As to why she is unmarried the reason is plain. Parties
were not wanting but those ladies looked too high. In the
neighborhood, we only have the common nobility; and
among the Krzyckis there was not a bachelor of suitable
age. You, in this respect, would correspond to their
fantasy — "

"That is well I" answered Dolhanski, "only that
name I Kajetana ! Kajetana ! That seems to be a kind
of carriage or boat I Do I know ?"

Gronski and Ladislaus regarded Dolhanski's announce-
ment as a joke, as one of the sallies of wit which often
crossed his mind. He, however, kept his word, for on the
following day he proposed to Pani Otocka with due gravity
and, after receiving an equally grave refusal, rode off to
Gorek and settled there for a time. The young ladies, and
even Pani Krzycki, were greatly amused and interested in
all this, especially when the news reached them that the
agrarian strike in Gorek ended the same day on which

WHIRLPOOLS. 141

Dolhanski appeared. And it also ended a few days later
in Rzeslewo, partly from the force of circumstances, from
the conviction innate in the peasant soul that the "holy
land" is not to be trifled with, and partly owing to the
news which spread over the village that somebody from
some kind of a committee was to come and decide the
whole matter. Such was the case with the manor servants.
The peasants and husbandmen did not want to agree to
any school and would not relinquish the possession of the
manor lands, but awaited this somebody in equal fear and
hope, sacredly believing that not the will nor the law but
some unknown power would decide everything. In the
villages, in the meantime, more peaceful days ensued, and
though the daily papers brought intelligence of increased
commotion in the cities, Ladislaus believed that the local
storm had passed away. This belief was shared by the
guests. As the doctor had announced that Pani Krzycki's
departure depended upon the first signs of alleviation of
her suffering, Ladislaus determined to take the best ad-
vantage he could of the brief time the young ladies were
to remain in Jastrzeb. The horseback excursions began
and unless prevented by rain took place every morning.
They were particularly agreeable to Ladislaus because
Gronski, riding leisurely, kept company with his "adora-
tion," while he could pass hours alone with Miss Anney.
Both were expert riders; they usually dashed ahead and
most frequently disappeared from view in the distance.
At times, they set off at full gallop, and intoxicated them-
selves with the mad speed, the air, the sun, and each other.
At other times they rode abreast, slowly, stirrup to stirrup,
and then the silence into which they fell, anxious, full of
inexpressible delight, linked them with ties yet stronger
than those with which their conversation bound them.
With a glance Krzycki scanned the figure of the golden-
haired maiden, resembling on horseback the divine Gre-

142 WHIRLPOOLS.

cian forms or those on Etruscan vases, and feasted his
eyes. He listened to her voice and it seemed to him that
it was music still nearer perfection than that which poured
forth from Marynia's violin. At times when he assisted
her to mount her horse, he had to exert the full strength
of his will to refrain from pressing her foot to his lips and
forehead. And often he thought that if he ever dared to
do so, he would desire to remain in that position as long
as possible. To this feminine being all his thoughts were
impelled, and through the might and flight of his feeling,
his desires ceased to be like crawling serpents and be-
came like winged birds, capable of soaring unto heaven.
His love each day became more like a whirlpool which
drags to itself and engulfs everything. It seemed to Ladis-
laus that the air, the sun, the fields, the forests, the mead-
ows, the scent of the trees and flowers, the song of birds
and the evening playing of Marynia, — all these were only
some of the elements of that love which belonged to Miss
Anney and entered into her being and, without her, would
be insignificant and without essence. Moreover, the
whirlpool seized him and plunged him more and more
deeply with a power to which each day he offered less re-
sistance, for the simple reason that the abyss appeared
to him to be the abyss of happiness. Ladislaus now did
not surrender her to any Englishman "with protruding
jaw" or any Scot "with bare knees," and would not have
given her up for the whole of England and Scotland. He
ceased trying to persuade himself that this was a type of
woman, which he might have loved and, instead, he con-
fessed to himself sincerely that she was a woman whom
he did love. Love generated in him a bright and deter-
mined will; so now he thought, with the strict logic of
feeling, that he craved to win this, to him, most precious
and most desired being, to take and retain her for his whole
life. There was only one road leading to that: therefore

WHIRLPOOLS. 143

he determined to enter upon it with that heedless willing-
ness which a man, who desires to be happy, evinces.
Sometimes also a confession quivered upon his lips. He
restrained it however and deferred it from day to day, at
first owing to a timidity which every enamoured heart
feels, and again through calculation. For if Love is blind,
it certainly is not so to whatever may bring it benefits. It
can even weigh benefits and obstacles upon such delicate
scales that in this regard it is perhaps the most cautious,
the most prescient, and the shrewdest of human feelings.
In fact Ladislaus observed that his mother and Miss Anney
were bound by a sympathy which, on the part of youth,
health, and strength was productive of a certain friendly
care, and on the part of weakness and old age, of gratitude.
All three ladies were solicitous about his mother, but
neither the solicitude of Pani Otocka, nor that of Marynia,
was so vigilant or so efficacious as the watchfulness of
Miss Anney. Pani Krzycki candidly said that even Ladis-
laus could not move from room to room with such dex-
terity the armchair to which temporary disability had
riveted her; that he could not anticipate and humor
her wants as could this light-haired "good English
diviner."

To Krzycki, it frequently occurred that certainly this
"good diviner" did all that through kindness and sincere
friendship, but also because she wanted to conciliate his
mother. And his heart trembled with joy at the thought
that the moment would arrive when the wishes of his
mother would coincide with that for which he, himself,
most strongly yearned. He feared that a premature
avowal might sever the ties which were being formed and
for that reason he checked the word, which often burned
his lips like a flame.

After all, there was an avowal in their silence and
glances. Ladislaus did not dare and, until that time, did

144 WHIRLPOOLS.

not wish to tell her plainly that he loved her; he wanted,
however, with each word to clear the path and approach
that eagerly desired moment. In the meantime it hap-
pened that, either from lack of breath he could not speak
at all, or else he said something entirely different from
what he intended to say. Once when they rode amidst
luxuriant winter corn and when a light breeze bent towards
them the rye stalks, together with the red poppy and the
gray fescue-grass, he decided to tell her that all Jastrzeb
bowed at her feet ; and he said, with a great beating of his
heart, in a hollow voice not his own, "that in places the
grain is lying down." After which, in his soul, he called
himself an idiot and fretted at the supposition that a similar
opinion of him must have crossed her mind. It seemed to
him that she, beyond comparison, exercised a better self-
control and that she could always say just what she wished
to say. Consequently, even at times when partly through
coquetry and partly because of her habit of repeating his
expressions like an echo, she answered, for instance, " that
in places the grain is lying down," he discerned in her
words an unheard-of significance and later pondered over
them for hours.

But he also had, particularly in the morning, moments
of greater tranquillity of mind and greater peace, in which
his words were not like a disarrayed rank of soldiers, each
one marching in a different direction. At times, the themes
for these quieter conversations were furnished by some
external objects, but oftener by anxiety occasioned by
the impending separation. Krzycki at such times hid
behind his mother and in her name expressed that which
he did not dare to say in his own.

"I can imagine," he said the day following the second
visit of the doctor, "how Mother will long for you."

And the maiden, to whom it evidently occurred that
not only the mother but the son would long for her, looked

WHIRLPOOLS. 145

at him a little teasingly, with the hazy light of her strange
eyes, and replied:

"I am such a bird of flight that your mother will soon
become disaccustomed to me."

"Oh, I warrant you that she will not," exclaimed
Ladislaus.

After which, he added :

"I know Mother; she has fallen in love with you
immensely."

"Why, hardly ten days have elapsed since we arrived.
Is it possible to fall in love so soon?"

To this Ladislaus replied with deep conviction:

"It is ! I give you my word, it is !"

There was something so naive in the manner and tone
of the reply that Miss Anney could not refrain from
laughing. But he observed this and began to speak rap-
idly as if he wished to explain and justify himself:

"For do we know whence love comes? Often at
the first glance of the eye upon a human face we have
such an impression as if we found some one whom we
were seeking. There are certain unalterable forces which
mutually attract people, although before that time they
may have never met and though they had lived far away
from each other."

"And must such persons always meet each other?"

"No," he answered, "I think not always. But then
perhaps they are continually yearning, not knowing for
what, and feel an eternal vacuity in life."

And here, in spite of his will, the sincere poetry of
youth and sentiment spoke through his lips :

"You called yourself a bird of flight," he said. "Be-
loved also is that bird, only not as a bird which flies away
but rather as a bird which flies hitherward. For it flies
unexpectedly from somewhere in the distance — from
beyond the mountains, from beyond the sea, and nests in

10

146 WHIRLPOOLS.

the heart, and begins to sing such a song that one hearing
it would fain close his eyes and never waken again."

And thus he spoke until he grew pale from emotion.
For a time he was agitated, like a whirlwind, by the de-
sire to dismount from his horse and embrace the feet of
the maiden with his arms and cry : "Thou art that beloved
one: therefore do not fly away, my dear bird!" But
simultaneously he was seized by a prodigious fear of that
night which would encompass him if his entreaty should
prove futile.

So he merely uncoveredjiis head, as if he wanted to
display his heated forehead. A long silence, which fell
between them, was only interrupted by the snorting of the
horses, which now proceeded in an ambling pace, emitting
under the bridles a white foam.

After which Miss Anney spoke in a subdued voice which
sounded a little like a warning :

"I hear Pan Gronski approaching with Marynia."

In fact the other couple soon approached, happy and
animated. Marynia, a few paces away, exclaimed:

"Pan Gronski was telling me such beautiful things
about Rome. I am sorry that you did not hear
them."

"More about the neighborhood of Rome, than Rome
itself," said Gronski.

"Yes. I was in Tivoli. I was in Castel Gandolfo, in
Nemi. Wonders ! I will tease Zosia until in truth we will
go there and Pan Gronski with us."

"Will you take me along?" asked Miss Anney.

"Of course! We will all go in the autumn or next
spring. Did you folks also talk about a trip?"

For a time there was no response.

"No," Miss Anney finally replied. "We were talking
about birds of flight."

"Why, now it is spring and birds do not fly away."

WHIRLPOOLS. 147

"Nevertheless, you ladies are making preparations for
flying away," answered Ladislaus with a sigh.

"True," rejoined Marynia; "but that is because Aunt
is going away; and she" — here she pointed atMissAnney
with her riding whip — "has urged us all three to go where
the doctor is sending Aunt."

After which she said to Ladislaus :

"You would not believe, sir, how honest she is and how
she loves Aunt."

"I, not believe? I?" cried Ladislaus with ardor.

But Miss Anney, who a short time before had asked
him whether one could fall in love so soon, became greatly
confused and, dropping the reins, began with both hands
to set something right on her hat, wishing to cover with
them her countenance which glowed like the dawn.

Ladislaus had heaven in his heart, and Marynia, for
some time, gazed with her pellucid eyes, now at him and
then at Miss Anney, for it was no secret to her that Krzycki
was in love up to his ears, and this aroused her curiosity
and amused her indescribably.

148 WHIRLPOOLS.

XII

"SEE what I received to-day," said Ladislaus, handing
Gronski a letter which came with others in the morning
mail.

Gronski glanced at it and knit his brow.

"Ah!" he said, "a deatk sentence."

"Yes."

"With the seal of the P. P. S. They are distributing
them quite prodigally."

"Yes, just like the opposite party."

"Both are alike. The notary also has one and the
doctor several. What do you think of it?"

"Je m'en fiche! But the situation amuses me. I do
not know whether you have heard that the Provincial
guards have unearthed a secret school in Jastrzeb, which
I founded a year ago because my conscience commanded
me to. It is a case which I greased but have not yet
greased sufficiently. As a result, I now have suspended
over me the fists of the authorities and the fists of the so-
cialists. Enjoyable, is it not?"

"It has often occurred to me that elsewhere people
could not live under such conditions, and we not only live
but laugh quite merrily."

"For such is our sinewy Lechite nature."

" Perhaps that is so. You must, nevertheless, be on your
guard and it will be necessary to send the ladies away."

"It will be necessary, it will be necessary," repeated
Ladislaus. "And abroad too, for it is unsafe in Warsaw.
But please do not say anything about this foolish sentence
to Mother or any one else."

WHIRLPOOLS. 149

"Certainly."

"Mother positively insists upon my accompanying her,
and I do not try to shun that — oh, no, not in the least !
But summer is approaching and after that there will be
the harvest. The overseer is an honest man but before
my departure I must give him some specific instructions
how and what he is to do. After they all leave, I would
like to stay yet for a week or ten days. Mother will not
be alone and without care, as in the first place the younger
members of the family will be with her, and again you
heard Cousin Marynia say that the ladies will go wherever
Mother would be. Through all my life I will ever be
grateful to Miss Anney for that proposal; for to Mother
nothing could be better or more agreeable."

"And for her son also, it seems to me," said Gronski,
laughing.

Ladislaus remained silent for a time; after which he
began to press the palms of his hands on his temples and
replied :

"Yes. For why should I deny that which I confessed
to myself and which everybody sees but Mother, who has
not observed it because she seldom saw us together. But
she also has fallen in love with Miss Anney. Who would
not love her? Such a dear, golden creature. I have not,
as yet, said anything to Mother because she has her mind
set upon Pani Otocka and it will be unpleasant for her to
give up the thought. I fear she might be offended. After
all, I only know what is taking place within me, and noth-
ing more. I dare not even say that I have any reasons for
my illusion. I fear that it may all at once burst like a soap-
bubble. Ah! How unhappy I would be. Already I
cannot see anything in this world beyond her. Candidly
speaking, I do not know what to do with myself, Jastrzeb,
and life."

And grasping Gronski's hand, he continued:

150 WHIRLPOOLS.

"If you would only speak with Pani Otocka and ascer-
tain from her whether I may have hope; for they are
friends and certainly do 'not keep any secrets from each
other. If you would only do this for me; and in due
time speak with Mother ! But with Pani Otocka as soon
as possible ! Will you do it ?"

"I have spoken with Pani Otocka about that," re-
plied Gronski, "but what, do you suppose, she an-
swered? That she could not tell me anything as Miss
Anney confided to her a certain personal secret which she
was not at liberty to divulgg. I admit that this surprised
me. In reality, the secret cannot be anything derogatory
to Miss Anney, as otherwise Pani Otocka would not be
on such cordial and intimate terms with her. They are
like sisters, and in Warsaw they lived together, almost
door to door. After all, Pani Otocka, it seemed to me, was
sincerely in your favor and, at times, I received the im-
pression that she was concerned in having matters come
to the pass which they have. As for Marynia, she wriggles
her little ears and with that it ends. In any case, be as-
sured that you have not enemies in those ladies and, if
you want to know my personal views, much less in Miss
Anney."

"Would to God! Would to God I" answered Ladis-
laus. "You have given me a little encouragement and I
breathe more easily."

"But you, I see, have fallen unto your ears," observed
Gronski.

" I give you my word that I prefer one of her fingers or
the ray of her hair to all the women in the world. I never
had a conception that one could thus surrender himself.
At times I do not know what is happening to me or what
will occur, for only think: I have Jastrzeb, the estate,
the Rzeslewo affairs, Mother's departure, and here I can-
not think of anything but her — but her — and to nothing

WHIRLPOOLS. 151

else can I apply my mind. I regret every moment in which
I do not gaze upon her. To-day, for instance, I received
a summons from the Directory to come in reference to the
will and Rzeslewo, and I postpone the matter until to-
morrow. I cannot — plainly — I cannot I I would go
at night were it not that the Directory is closed for the
night."

" Remember, however, the death sentence."

"May the devil take them with their sentence, or let
them finally shoot me in the head. I would still be think-
ing of her, especially after what you have told me. But
how do you know that Pani Otocka is in my favor? Those
are honest, golden hearts, both of those cousins ! How
did you say it? That they are not my enemies? Thank
God, even for that! For, why should they hate me? But
please speak with Pani Otocka again. I am not concerned
about her betraying any secret but only that, knowing
Miss Anney, she should say something one way or the
other — you know what I want — certainty — even though
a morsel — "

"Certainly," said Gronski, laughing, "I will seek an
opportunity to-day."

" Thank you ! Thank you ! "

In fact an opportunity was easily found, as Pani Otocka
also had some news which she desired to impart to Gronski,
and with this object she sent her maid to him with an in-
vitation to meet her on the yoked elm walk, near the pond.
When they met there she gave him, just as Ladislaus had
done a while before, a letter which arrived in the same
morning's mail and said:

"Please read it and advise me what to do with it/'

It was a letter from Laskowicz to Marynia and its tenor
was as follows:

"A great idea is like a gigantic bird: her wings cast a
shadow over the earth, while she hovers in the sun.

152 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Whoever does not fly upwards with her is surrounded
by darkness.

"And darkness is death.

"In that darkness, I behold Thee, like an alabaster
statuette. This night the sounds of thy music reach me.

"And lo, in my lonely chamber I think of Thee and
grieve for Thee.

"For Thou couldst be a beam-feather in the wings of
this gigantic bird idea and inhale the pure air of the dizzy
heights and play in glory to the legions of the living; and
Thou breathest the air of tombs and playest to a life which
is moribund and to souls that wither; and not to people
but to ghosts.

"I grieve for Thee, my silvery one.

"And my thoughts fly to Thee like eagles.

"For heretofore there was imbedded in my strength a
part of human happiness but there was not in it my own
happiness.

"Now Thou suddenly glidest before my eyes like a
light, and through my ears like music, and hast filled my
bosom with a yearning for things I had not known before,
and hast filled me with Thine own indispensable quintes-
sence and a consciousness of my happiness.

"Therefore I loved Thee the same night when I beheld
Thee and heard Thee for the first time.

"Henceforth, though Thou are not near me, I am with
Thee and will follow wherever Thou wilt be.

"For Thou art necessary to my existence and I am to
Thee, in order to resuscitate Thee.

"In order to snatch Thee from destruction; from
amidst those who are about to die.

"In order to surrender Thee to the great idea, and the
exalted, and the light, and the living hosts who suffer from
a dearth of bread and music.

"Thee and Thy music.

WHIRLPOOLS. 153

"May extermination not fall upon you both.
"Oh, beloved one.

"A certain night I summoned Thee but Thou didst not
hear me and didst not come. Now I extend my hands
towards Thee and say unto Thee : Come and slumber in
my heart.

"And when the time of awakening comes, I will wake
Thee for a brief moment of pleasure, which love gives for
the toil without an end and which the idea demands.

"For toil and perchance for martyrdom.

"But in that martyrdom for the dawn of a new life,
there is greater happiness than in the dusk, mephitic air,
ashes and mould of graves.

"Therefore come even for martyrdom.

"And until our existence floats into the sea of nothing-
ness, abide with me.

"Oh, beloved one."

Gronski's countenance reflected perturbation. For a
time he and Pani Otocka walked in silence.

"What shall I do with this, and what does it mean?"
"This is a disagreeable and vexatious matter, and the
letter means that Laskowicz, who never in his life saw a
being like Marynia, has fallen in love with her from the
first acquaintance, as he himself says. I observed that
after a few days and if I did not say anything to you about
it, it was because Laskowicz was soon to leave. But he
has fallen in love with his head and not his heart, for other-
wise, instead of high-flown expressions, borrowed, as it
were, from some school of literature, he would have found
simpler and more sincere words. His exaltation may be
sincere, it may waste and destroy him like a fever; it may
last for whole years, but its chief source is the head and not
the heart."

154 WHIRLPOOLS.

But Pani Otocka, who at the moment was not in the
least interested in an analysis of Laskowicz's feelings,
interrupted a further disquisition :

"But what are we to do, in view of this? How are we
to act? It is about Maiynia that I am concerned."

"You are right," answered Gronski. "Pardon my
untimely reflections, but it is always better to know with
whom and with what one has to do. My opinion is that
it would be best not to do anything, just as if this letter had
not arrived. You may return it to Laskowicz, but that
would be exceedingly contemptuous: this letter deserves,
perhaps, to be thrown into a fireplace, but in my opinion
it does not merit contempt. It is, if you will permit me to
thus express myself, nervous and insolent, but it preserves
a certain measure in its expressions and there is nothing
brutal in it. Besides it expresses rather the thoughts
which came to Laskowicz's mind than any actual hopes,
and to that extent it might be explained to Marynia that
this is not a letter to her but a poem for her, not quite
felicitously conceived. And Marynia? What impression
did it make upon her and what does she say?"

"Marynia," answered Pani Otocka with a certain comic
uneasiness, "is a little offended, a little worried and
frightened, but in the innermost recesses of her heart,
she is a little proud that somebody should have written
such a letter to her."

"Oh, I was certain of that," exclaimed Gronski, laugh-
ing involuntarily.

After a while he began to speak seriously.

"No doubt other letters will come and as these may be
more glaring, we will have to persuade the little one that
she should not read them. If you will permit, I will under-
take that, after which, you ladies ought to go to Warsaw,
and, in a short time, journey abroad and the matter will
end of itself."

WHIRLPOOLS. 155

"To tell the truth," responded Pani Otocka, "I want to
leave Jastrzeb as soon as possible. We are not necessary
for Aunt but are rather a hindrance in the preparations for
her departure, and I confess that I am possessed by fear.
Please read that letter again carefully. Why, there are
threats there against all the residents of Jastrzeb and even
against Marynia if she stays with us."

Gronski thought of Ladislaus receiving at the same time
a death sentence, and in the first moments it occurred to
him that it might have some connection with Laskowicz's
letter. But after a while he recollected that similar sen-
tences were sent to the doctor and even the aged notary :
therefore to pacify Pani Otocka, he said :

"These are times of continual menaces and everybody
receives them, but I do not think that Laskowicz intended
to warn Marynia of any imminent attack threatening us in
Jastrzeb. He undoubtedly wished to say that the waves
of socialism will sweep away all who do not float with it,
and therefore us. But as the peace of yourself and Marynia
is involved, as to leaving, why of course ! Why should we
not leave even to-morrow?"

"I already thought of that, but Aunt urged us to wait
for her and Aninka promised her that."

"Then let her remain, and you ladies leave. Ah, so
Miss Anney delays the departure ? Good news for Laudie !
May I tell him that ? A while ago, he begged me to learn
something from you, — for the poor fellow barely lives.
He is the most love-sick swain within the boundaries of
the Commonwealth."

"So it has gone as far as that?"

" It has ! Evidently there is something inflammatory
in the atmosphere of Jastrzeb. Here everybody falls in
love, either openly or in secret."

Hearing this, Pani Otocka unexpectedly blushed like a
fifteen-year-old girl, and though this happened often and

156 WHIRLPOOLS.

upon the most trivial provocation, Gronski being unable
to surmise what had passed through her mind, looked at
her with a certain wonder.

"How then?" he said. "There are Laudie, Laskowicz,
and Dolhanski. But Dolhanski has the most energy, for,
after his latest repulse, he immediately decamps upon a
new expedition, while Laudie fears/'

" What ?" asked Pani Otocka, raising her eyes.

"First, a repulse from which he thinks he could not
recover, and, again, a discussion with his mother which
awaits him." *

"Perhaps something else awaits Cousin Laudie, but he
need not fear about Aninka."

"He will die from joy when I tell him that, but in my
way, I, who am known to you as a meddler, could die from
curiosity."

"What of it, when I have no right to speak about it? "

"Not even when we leave Jastrzeb?"

"Not even then. After all, everything will soon clear
up."

"In such case, I have procured enough for the nonce,
and in the meanwhile I will return to Laudie to tell him
the good news and apprise him of our departure. I will
not mention anything about Laskowicz's letter, for to-
morrow he will set off for the city and, if they met, a nasty
encounter might result."

WHIRLPOOLS. 157

XIII

LADISLAUS, however, did not go to the city on the day
following his conversation with Gronski, for he was noti-
fied that the meeting of the executors of Zarnowski's will
was postponed for one week. The reason for this was
that in two days a convention of the citizens of the vicinity
was to commence in reference to providing insurance for
the superannuated rural officials and manor-servants, and
also in regard to the more burning question of introducing
the Polish language into the communes, — a question in
which the communal justices as well as the villagers were
interested. Ladislaus determined, by all means, to partici-
pate in these debates, but as they were to take place in the
forenoons, he formulated a plan of going to them every
morning and returning home in the afternoon. In view
of the proximity of Jastrzeb to the city, this plan was
quite feasible.

However, he was disappointed in the hope that he could
devote those two days exclusively to the guests, or rather
to the most precious of guests in Jastrzeb, as the disorders
in Rzeslewo broke out with renewed virulence and they
required almost all his time. The strike of the manor
help, indeed, ceased so completely that the intervention,
which Dolhanski advised, became superfluous and it was
necessary to restrain it. But in the meantime individual
tenants and some of the husbandmen began to commit
depredations in the forest. Ladislaus, at the head of the
local and Jastrzeb foresters, sought these disorderly per-
sons, who, indeed, hid at the sight of him: nevertheless
they assumed a very threatening attitude towards the
servants, promising to all swift vengeance. The foresters

158 WHIRLPOOLS.

received bulky letters, assuring them "that they would
get a bullet in the head, and the heir also would." But
the heir, who was not wanting in youthful energy and was
not averse to adventure, did not at all neglect the defence
of the Rzeslewo forests, and, what was more, he personally
rushed over to Rzeslewo and summoning the malefactors,
declared that he would invoke courts and punishment.

And afterwards, he repaired at the designated time to
the conference. It was to be the last day of the sojourn in
Jastrzeb of Pani Octoka, Marynia, and Gronski, who
decided to leave on the following day for Warsaw. Miss
Anney, at Pani Krzycki's solicitation, agreed to remain
for a few days, and leave with her. Ladislaus announced
that he would return as soon as possible in order to spend
the evening with all of them and to listen for the last time
to Marynia's bewitching violin. He also said that he would
induce the notary and the doctor to come with him.

As a result, they waited dinner for them. In the mean-
time, about four o'clock, Gronski sat in his room writing
a letter to Dolhanski, Marynia, upstairs, played her daily
exercises, Pani Otocka sat with the patient, and Miss
Anney went out on the balcony, ostensibly to photograph
the old and lofty trees which enclosed the courtyard on
two sides, but in reality to see whether he, whom they
expected at home, was returning. So instead of photo-
graphing, she began to lose her sight and soul in the shady
depths of the old linden roadway. Hope that soon she
would behold in that depth a cloud of dust, horses, and
carriages, and that afterwards the lively form of a youth
would leap out, filled her with a quiet joy. Lo, after a
while she would see before her that countenance, stately,
sympathetic, and sincere; those eyes, whose every glance
spoke to her a hundred times more than the lips, and would
hear that voice which penetrated to her heart and thrilled
it like music. At this thought, Miss Anney was encom-

WHIRLPOOLS. 159

passed with such sweet, calm feeling, as if she were a child
and as if some loved hand were lightly rocking her to sleep ;
as if she were resting in a boat, which the gentle waves
bore somewhere into a distance, unknown, but radiant.
To permit herself to be rocked, to allow herself to be
borne, to confide in the waves, to not think, for the time
being, of where the boat will stop, — this was all that the
heart of the maiden, at such moments, desired. But at
other moments, when she propounded to herself the ques-
tion, "What will happen further?" she looked with faith
into the future. Sometimes when sleep refused to close her
eyes, there flitted through her mind, like dark butterflies,
uncertainties and fears, but even then she said to herself
that the heaven may become cloudy in the future, but at
present she was enjoying charming, fair weather, and every
day was like a flower, and she plucked those flowers, one
after another and laid them upon her bosom. So she thought
that for this it was worth while to live and even to die.

And at that moment, though her soul was dissolving in
the sun, in the serene atmosphere, in the rustle of leaves
and in the great pastoral calm, flooded with light, she had
no desire to die, for it seemed to her that, with the air,
she inhaled joyful appeasement. Everything about her
began to lose the mark of reality and change into an azure
vision of happiness, half dreamy, half wakeful. From
this revery she was aroused by the sight, awaiting which
she had sat for almost an hour on the balcony. Lo, at the
uttermost end of the roadway her eagerly desired cloud
of dust appeared and it approached with unusual rapidity.
Miss Anney recollected herself. In the first moments she
wanted to retire. "It is necessary, it is necessary," she
said to herself, "otherwise he will be apt to think that I
was waiting for him. " And she would have been sincerely
indignant had any one suggested to her that such was the
case. But suddenly her knees became so weak that she

160 WHIRLPOOLS.

sat again, clutching the camera in order that it might
appear that when found on the balcony she was taking
photographs. In the meantime the cloud drew nearer the
gates of entry, continuing with the same speed. Soon in
harmony with the picture which the maiden had previously
formed, the gray heads of the fore horses emerged from
the dust. Like lightning, an impression of joy shook Miss
Anney. "How he is flying and how anxious he is 1" But
immediately afterwards, as she began to wonder at the
amazing speed, she thought that the horses were frightened.
They were already so close^to the gates that she could per-
ceive the wind-tossed manes, the distended bloody nostrils
and the frantic motions of the horses' feet. Suddenly she
rose and her eyes reflected horror, for she observed that
the coachman sat, bent so that only the top of his head
could be seen — without a cap. In the meantime the
intractable horses dashed through the gate; at the wind-
ing, the coachman fell off and the carriage with slightly
diminished speed swung in a semi-circle along the border
of the flower-bed. In the carriage, on the rear seat, Ladis-
laus sat alone, with his head tilted upwards and propped
upon a carriage cushion. A cry of terror escaped from
Miss Anney's breast. The horses, in the twinkle of an
eye, reached the balcony and being accustomed to stop
before it, implanted their hoofs in the ground. Ladislaus
moved and, pale as a corpse, with blood streaming over
his collar and coat sleeves, staggered from the carriage;
when the maiden hurried towards him, he cried, grasping
the air with his mouth :

"Nothing! » . . I am wounded, but it is nothing!"

And he toppled to the ground at her feet.

And she, in a moment raised him with a strength, amaz-
ing in a woman, and supporting him with her arms and
breast, began to shriek:

"Save him! Help! Help!"

WHIRLPOOLS. 161

PART SECOND

WHEN Miss Anney raised the wounded young man, the
household servants were in the other part of the house.
Nearest to her — for they were in the vestibule playing
billiards — were Pani Zosia and Marynia. These ladies
rushed upon the balcony and, seeing Miss Anney support-
ing the disabled youth, emulating her example, began to
shout at the top of their voices. She, in the meantime,
placed him upon a bench on the balcony and enclosing him
in her arms, called for water. Both sisters hurried to the
sideboard for it and alarmed the whole house. Gronski
and everything living collected there. In the first moments
Gronski lost his head and when he recovered his senses
he sent Pani Otocka to Ladislaus' mother to apprise her
of the occurrence. In the meanwhile Miss Anney ordered
the servants to carry the wounded man. She, herself, was
compelled for a while to attend to her maid, who at the
sight of Ladislaus, began to scream and then fell into
hysterical convulsions. Gronski hastened to the stable to
dispatch horses for the doctor.

But before the wounded man was borne to his room his
mother came precipitately. At the news of the misfortune,
she forgot about her rheumatism and assisted in the removal
of her son, and in undressing and laying him in bed.
Afterwards she began to wash out the wounds with a
sponge. Ladislaus, owing to a copious flow of blood, fell
into a long faint, and, after regaining consciousness for a
brief interval, fainted again: in consequence of which he

11

162 WHIRLPOOLS.

could not give any information about the ocurrence. He
only repeated several times, "In the woods, in the woods 1"
From which they could infer that the attack took place,
not upon the public highway but on the borders of Rzeslewo
or Jastrzeb.

In the meantime, the rattle of a britzka resounded before
the balcony and, a moment later, Gronski summoned Miss
Anney from her room, where she was hastily changing her
clothes, which were covered with blood.

"I am riding alone," he said. "The coachman is on the
sick list and the housekeeper has taken charge of him.
None of the grooms want to go. All are scared and
positively refuse. Only the old lackey is willing to drive,
but I think that he cannot drive any better than I can."

"It is imperatively necessary to drive for the doctor
at once," answered Miss Anney, pressing the palms of
her hands to her burning cheeks, " but it is also necessary
to prepare for the defence of the house. Please hurry to the
farmers' quarters and send for the forest rangers to come
with their arms. Otherwise those men will be apt to
break in here and administer the finishing blow to him."

"That is true."

And she continued hurriedly:

"It is necessary to send some one for the men in the
sawmill and arm them with firearms. The field hands will
follow their example. In all probability an assault will be
made upon the manor-house and here are only women.
You must assume charge of the defence. Please go at once,
and do send for the forest rangers."

Gronski admitted the propriety of the advice, and pro-
ceeded immediately to the farmers' buildings. It was
within the range of possibility that the assailants, not
knowing the result of their shooting, might wish to
ascertain and perhaps finish their work. ' This had
happened in several instances, and in view of this, all,

WHIRLPOOLS. 163

and, more particularly, the women, were concerned.
Gronski was not an energetic man, but no coward, and
the thought of the being most precious to him in the world,
Marynia, infused him with energy. He immediately sent
the field hands for the forest rangers, as well as to the
sawmill, where a dozen or more men worked, of whom it
was known in the manor, as well as in the village, that
they read " The Pole ' ' and did not fear any one. The manor
domestics very quickly recovered from their consternation.
The reason for this was that the wounded coachman,
though he did not see the assailants who had fired from
thickets, claimed with great positiveness that " the Rzeslewo
people attacked the young heir" on account of disputes
about the forest. This removed from the affair the awe of
mystery ; and a peasant does not fear danger but mystery.
Besides, as there existed between the men of Jastrzeb and
the men of Rzeslewo an ancient grudge, dating from the
time of the wrangle about bounding the stream, as soon as
the news of the attempt of the Rzeslewo men spread over
the village, those of Jastrzeb ceased not only to fear, but
a desire for revenge was bred in them. The manor ser-
vants began to feel ashamed now that they had refused to
drive for the doctor. Others, hearing that Rzeslewo wished
to make an onslaught on Jastrzeb manor, seized pitchforks
and pulled out pickets from the fences. Gronski, aware
of the death sentence received by Ladislaus, viewed the
matter differently, but kept his opinion to himself, under-
standing that a peasant, though he often suddenly displays
unusual terror, when once he starts to pull out pickets
from fences, does not fear anybody whatsoever.

Therefore delighted with this turn of affairs, he took
with him a stout groom, who undertook to convey him to
the city. But here a surprise awaited him, for before the
balcony there was not a trace of the britzka and on the
balcony stood the old lackey Andrew, with dejected face,

164 WHIRLPOOLS.

and Maiynia, pale, terror-stricken, with tears in her eyes,
and who seeing him began to cry:

"How could you, sir, permit her to ride alone? How
could you do it?"

"Miss Anney drove alone to the city!" exclaimed
Gronski.

And his countenance reflected such amazement that it
was easy to perceive that it had happened without his
knowledge or consent.

"My God!" he said, "she sent me to the farmhouses
to arrange the defence, and^jt never occurred to me that in
the meantime she would jump into the britzka and drive
away. It never occurred to me for a moment."

But Marynia did not stop her lamentations.

"They will kill her in the woods; they will kill her,"
she repeated, wringing her hands.

Gronski, in order to quiet her, assured her that he
would send out succor at once, but returning to the farm-
houses, he began to reason that if he, himself, set out after
her on horseback he would accomplish nothing and would
leave the house without a masculine head, and if he should
send the field laborers, before they reached the forest
Miss Anney would outstrip them. It was possible for them
to insure, fairly well, her safe return, but to insure her safe
passage through the woods in the direction of the city it
was absolutely too late.

This was likewise acknowledged by Dolhanski, who not
knowing of anything, returned by chance a half an hour
later from Gorek to Jastrzeb. Hearing of the occurrence
and Miss Anney's expedition, he could not refrain from
exclaiming :

"But that is a brave girl. I wish I was Krzycki."

After which, going with Gronski to see the injured man,
he added:

"We will have to go out to meet her. I will attend to
that."

WHIRLPOOLS. 165

Ladislaus was already completely conscious and wanted
to rise. He did not do so on account of his mother's
entreaties and adjurations. His two friends did not tell
him who had gone after the doctor. They only informed
him that the doctor would arrive without delay and, after
a short while, left, having something else to attend to.
Dolhanski now assumed command over the improvised gar-
rison which was to defend the manor-house. Gronski
did not expect to find in him such an extraordinary supply
of energy, sangfroid and self-confidence. He soon im-
parted this feeling to the household servants and the
foresters; and the organization of the defence was not
difficult. Two Jastrzeb forest rangers and one from Rzes-
lewo, who came later, had their own firearms, and in the
manor-house were found Ladislaus' six fowling-pieces and,
of these, two were short rifles. Dolhanski distributed this
entire arsenal among men who knew how to use the weap-
ons. A few servants from the village, who had participated
in the Japanese war, appeared. Under these circumstances
there was no fear of a sudden and unexpected attack. The
workingmen from the sawmill, being of the Nationalistic
persuasion, were anxious "that something should happen,"
so that they could "show how the teeth of uninvited guests
are cleaned."

Having arranged everything in this manner, Dolhanski
intrusted the defence of the manor-house and the women
to Gronski. Before that, however, he calmed them as to
Miss Anney with the assurance that he returned from
Gorek through the selfsame forest and rode in safety.
This was the actual fact. But what was stranger, he did
not meet the Englishwoman, from which they inferred
that the courageous but prudent young lady evidently
drove on another side road. However, as the distance to
the city was not great and her return might be expected
soon, he proceeded to meet her, taking along with him

166 WHIRLPOOLS.

two forest rangers armed from head to foot. Gronski again
was compelled to admire the shrewdness and ingenuity
with which he issued in the name of the " Central Govern-
ment" a command to the peasants of the village, that they
should, in case they heard shots in the forest, rush in a
body to their aid. The peasants did not know what this
"Central Government" was. Neither did Dolhanski. He
only knew that the name alone would create an impression,
and the supposition that it was some Polish authority
would ensure it a willing obedience.

But these were superfluous precautions, as it appeared
that there was no one in the Jastrzeb and Rzeslewo forests
which extended along the other side of the road. The
miscreants who fired at Krzycki had decamped with due
haste, evidently from fear of pursuit ; or else they awaited
the night, concealed in some distant underwood belong-
ing to other villages. One of the forest rangers, who had
previously fully questioned the coachman about the place
of the ambush, found, while beating the adjacent thickets,
empty revolver cartridge shells, in consequence of which
the supposition arose that the attack was perpetrated by
Rzeslewo peasants. Dolhanski did not doubt that what
happened was a sequel of the death sentence, of which he
learned from Gronski. But this seemed to him "much
more interesting." He thought that to meet the assailants
and settle the issue in a proper manner would be a sort of
hazard not devoid of a certain charm. And, in fact, soon
a few more empty shells were found, but further search
was without any results.

Then Dolhanski turned towards the highway leading
to the city, and a half an hour later met Miss Anney,
driving the britzka as fast as the horses could run ; on the
rear seat was the doctor.

It was market-day in the city. It happened therefore
that at that time a dozen or more carts from Jastrzeb and

WHIRLPOOLS. 167

Rzeslewo were returning homeward, and there was con-
siderable bustle on the road. In consequence of this, Miss
Anney did not become frightened at the sight of three
armed men approaching her from an opposite direction,
and, after a while, recognizing Dolhanski, she began to
slacken the speed of the horses.

"How is the wounded man?"

"Conscious. Good."

"How is it in the house?"

"Nothing new."

"God be praised."

The britzka again rolled on and after an interval was
hidden in a cloud of dust, and Dolhanski, having naught
else to do, returned also to Jastrzeb.

The forest rangers who were walking behind him began
to converse with each other and interchange their ideas of a
lady "who drives as well as the best coachman." But in
Dolhanski's eyes there lingered also the picture of a young
and charming maiden, with reins in hand, glowing counte-
nance and wind-tossed hair. How much resolution and vi-
vacity there was in all this ! Never before did Miss Anney
appear to him so enchanting. He knew from Gronski in
what manner she had dashed to the city, and he was sin-
cerely captivated by her. "That is not one of our trans-
parent, jelly maidens who quiver at the slightest cause," he
said to himself, "that is life, that is bravery, that is blood."
He always admired everything which was English, beginning
with the House of Lords and ending with the manufactured
products of yellow leather, but at the present time his
admiration waxed yet greater. "If her marriage portion
is reckoned not in Polish gold pieces but in guineas," he
soliloquized farther, "then Laudie was born with a caul."
As he was an egotist, as well as a man of courage, he,
after a while, ceased to bother his head about Krzycki and
the danger which threatened all, and began to ruminate

168 WHIRLPOOLS.

over his own situation in the world. He recollected that at
one time he could have sold himself for a fat marriage set-
tlement but with such an appendage that he preferred to
renounce all. But if he had only found such an append-
age as Miss Anney ! And suddenly he was beset by regret
that, after making her acquaintance, he had not been more
attentive to her and had not tried to arouse in her an inter-
est in himself. "Who knows," he thought, "whether at
the proper time, that was not possible." But, in such case,
it was proper for him to appear before her as more knightly
and romantic and less sardonic and fond of club life.
Evidently that was not her genre. Above all he could
not delude himself as to Pani Otocka. Dolhanski, from a
certain time, had suspected his cousin of a secret attach-
ment for Gronski, and at the same time could not under-
stand what there was in Gronski that a woman could like.
At the present time he was harassed by certain doubts
about himself, for he felt, contrary to the good opinion
which he entertained of himself, that there was something
lacking in him ; that in his internal mechanism some kind
of wheel was wanting, without which, the entire mechan-
ism did not go as it should. "For if," he cogitated farther,
"I can sustain myself upon the surface, only through a
rich marriage, and my genre pleases neither Pani Otocka,
nor Miss Anney, nor women in general, then I am a two-
fold ass : first because I thought I could please and again
because I cannot afford to change." And he felt that he
could not afford to change because of his indolence and
from a fear that he would appear ridiculous.

"In view of this it will perhaps be necessary to end with
Kajetana with her appurtenances."

In a sour temper he returned to Jastrzeb and, having
given orders to the night watch, he went into the house
where he received better news. The doctor announced
that Ladislaus had a lacerated left shoulder, but as the

WHIRLPOOLS. 169

shot was fired from below and went upwards, the bullet
coursed above the lungs. The second shot grazed over
the ribs, tearing a considerable portion of the flesh, while
the third one carried off the tip of the small finger. The
wounds were painful but not dangerous. The coachman
received a scalp wound. The most severely injured was the
left forehorse, who, however, owing to the small calibre
of the bullet was able to gallop with the other horses, but
died an hour after the return.

All of which, however, tended to prove that the attack
was not the swift revenge of the landless of Rzeslewo in
defence of the forest rights, but a premeditated attempt.
For this reason Gronski was of the opinion that Pani
Otocka and Marynia ought to leave the following day.
He wanted to escort them himself to the railroad station
and then return. But both declared that they would re-
main until all were able to leave. On this occasion Mary-
nia, for the first time in her life, quarrelled with Gronski
and the matter actually ended in this, that Gronski had
to yield. After all, the departure was not delayed for a
long time, for the doctor promised that if great caution
was observed, they could transfer the injured man to War-
saw in the course of a week. No one suggested an immedi-
ate departure to Miss Anney.

The rest of the evening was passed in conference.
About ten o'clock Dr. Szremski, having performed all
that was required of him, wanted to leave for the city, but
out of regard for Pani Krzycki he remained for the night,
and as he was much fatigued, he went to Gronski' s room
and fell asleep at once. The ladies divided the work
among themselves in this manner: the two sisters were
to watch Pani Krzycki, who after the temporary excite-
ment suffered severely from heart trouble and asthma.
Miss Anney in conjunction with Gronski undertook to
pass the night with the wounded young man.

170 WHIRLPOOLS.

Our in the world the first glow of dawn was just visible
when Ladislaus awoke, after a fitful and slightly feverish
sleep. He did not feel badly ; only a thirst was consuming
him ; he began to seek with his eyes for some one near
who could give him water, and espied Miss Anney sitting
at the window. She must h^ve watched a long time for she
dozed, with her hands resting inertly upon her knees, and
her head was bowed so low that Ladislaus at first caught
only a glimpse of her light hair, illuminated by the light
of the green lamp. She immediately started up however,
as if she had a premonition that the patient was awake,
and it seemed to him that she divined his thoughts, for,
approaching noiselessly, she asked :

"Do you wish any water?"

Krzycki did not answer; he only smiled and winked
his eyes in sign of assent; when she handed the drink to
him, he eagerly drained the glass, and afterwards gently
taking her hand in his own, which was uninjured, he
pressed it to his lips and held it there a long time.

"My dearest . . . my guardian angel," he whispered.

And again he pressed her hand to his lips.

Miss Anney did not even withdraw her hand ; only with
the other one she took the glass and placed it upon the
small cupboard standing near the bed. She bent over him
and said:

"It is necessary for you to keep quiet. — I will be
with you until you get well, but now it is essential that you
think only of your health ; only of your health."

Her voice sounded in tones of quiet and gentle persua-
siveness. Ladislaus dropped her hand. For some time he

WHIRLPOOLS. 171

moved his lips, but not a word could be heard. Evidently,
he was weakened from emotion, as he grew pale and beads
of perspiration stood upon his forehead.

Miss Anney began to wipe his face with a handkerchief
and continued:

" Please be calm. If I thought that I was harming you,
I would not come here, and I do want to be with you now.
Not a word about anything until the wounds are healed;
not a word. Promise me that."

A moment of silence ensued.

"Let the lady retire for a rest/1 Krzycki said in a plead-
ing voice.

"I will go, I will go, but I am not at all tired. During
the first half of the night, Pan Gronski sat up at your
side and I slept. Really, I am not tired and I will sleep
during the day. But you, sir, try to sleep. All that is neces-
sary is for you not to look at me, and close your eyes.
Then sleep will come of itself. Good-night, or rather
good-day, for the day is breaking in the world."

In fact the morning's dawn reddened and gilded the
sky, and the sun was about to rise at any moment. The
light of the green lamp grew paler each moment and was
merging into the brightness of the day. Ladislaus, desir-
ing to show how he obeyed every word of his beloved
guardian, closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, but after
a while footsteps were heard in the hallway and the doctor
entered accompanied by Miss Anney's maid, whose turn
it now was to attend to the patient. The doctor was so
terribly drowsy that instead of eyes he had two slits sur-
rounded by swollen eyelids, but he was as jovial and noisy
as usual. He examined the bandages, admitted that the
dressing was in proper shape, felt the pulse, and found
everything in good order. Afterwards he opened the
windows to freshen the air which was saturated with
iodoform.

172 WHIRLPOOLS.

"A splendid morning," said he. "Health flows from
the skies. Let the windows remain open all day. As soon
as they hitch the horses, I shall return to the city for I
have patients who cannot wait. But I will come back
in the evening and bring a nurse for our wounded friend."

After which, addressing Miss Anney, he said:

"Only do not let it get into your head to drive for me,
alone. The injured man is getting along nicely — a
slight fever, very slight. I will see Pani Krzycki before
I leave. Do not let her leave her bed all day, and let her
nieces watch her. To you, sir, I recommend the bed. It
is permissible to inhale Hut not to breathe one's last
breath. Ha ! I will return about five in the evening,
unless indeed, I am forced on the road to swallow a few
pills from the socialist pharmacy. That is a stylish
medicine and, it must be confessed, acts quickly."

"How is Mother?" asked Ladislaus in alarm.

At this the doctor again turned to Miss Anney.

"Order him to lie quiet for he will not mind me. Your
mother has more than fifteen years. Yesterday she started
up suddenly, forgetting her rheumatism and weak heart
action, laid you in bed, waited for my arrival ; was present
at the dressing, and after learning that there was no danger
— at once ! bah ! — it was necessary to put her to bed.
That is always the way with our women. But nothing is
the matter with your mother; the usual reaction after a
nervous strain. When she came to herself, I ordered her
to remain in bed and not to appear here under the penalty
of death — for you. With that, I restrained her. Other-
wise she would have stuck here all night. Now your
filigree cousins are watching her. They also almost turned
topsyturvy; then I would have had four patients in one
house. That would be a harvest — ha? Luckily there
was to be found in this house one soul with different
nerves, who did not swoon poetically. Ha I"

WHIRLPOOLS. 173

"How he is chattering," thought Ladislaus.

But the doctor began to gaze with great respect at Miss
Anney and continued:

"Rule Britannia ! It is a pleasure to look at you, as I
love God! What health, what nerves! She sat up all
night until the morning, — and nothing ! As if she freshly
shook the dew off herself ! I repeat once more, it is a
pleasure to behold you. I am going to the dining-room to
see if they will not give me some coffee before I leave, for
I am hungry."

But before he left he said to Miss Anney and her maid :

"Let the lady go with me and drink something warm
before going to sleep, and you, little miss, sit here beside
Pan Krzycki. It will be necessary to take his temperature
and write it down. In case anything happens let Pan
Gronski know. I will tell him to look in here occasion-
ally. Good-by!"

Allowing Miss Anney, who smiled at the wounded man
and repeated "Good-by," to pass before him, he fol-
lowed her. In the dining-room, they found not only coffee,
but the two sisters with Gronski and Dolhanski. The
former had sat up all night with Pani Krzycki, whose ill-
ness was much more serious than the doctor told the son.
At one time it was even so serious that it was doubtful
whether she would revive from a long faint. Both "fili-
gree" sisters were almost worn out, and Marynia had
eyelids of actual lily color. Gronski, by all means, wanted
the doctor to examine her and prescribe something strength-
ening.

But he, feeling her pulse for a while, said :

" I will prescribe for you, miss, as a medicine, a certain
maxim of Confucius, which says, 'If thou wouldst know
the truth, it is better to sit than stand, better to lie down
than sit, and rather than lie down, it is better to sleep.' "

"That is all very well," she answered, "but after all

174 WHIRLPOOLS.

that has taken place, I do not know whether I can
sleep."

"Then let some one sing to you the lullaby, 'Ah, ah!
Two little kittens'; but only not your sister, as for her I
prescribe the same — until it is effective."

The rattle of the britzka interrupted further conversa-
tion. The doctor swallowed the hot coffee and took his
leave. Dolhanski followed him and mounted a horse,
held by a stable-boy. He announced that he would ac-
company the doctor through the forest.

"If that is for my safety, then it is absolutely unneces-
sary," said the doctor.

"I ride on horseback daily," replied Dolhanski, "and
besides I want to see whether some May party has not
again come to the Jastrzeb forest."

"No," answered the doctor, laughing. "I do not think
that they will reappear so soon. They have in these mat-
ters a certain method. They prefer to be the hunters
rather than the quarry, and understand that now it might
come to a man hunt. In about a week or two, when they
find out that their attempt was unsuccessful, it will be
necessary to be more guarded."

"When will Krzycki be able to leave?"

"It all depends upon the purity of his blood; and I
presume that it is pure. After all, it will not be necessary
to wait in Jastrzeb for a complete cure. He had a pretty
close call; that cannot be gainsaid. For if I had not
come the same day, infection might have set in. But the
antiseptic did its work. Ah, that Englishwoman who
looks through a heavenly mist. There is a woman for
me. What? Would you believe that at first I was upset
with indignation at you gentlemen for permitjiftg her to
drive under those circumstances ? Only later did she tell
me the actual facts. If I do not fall in love with her, I am
a marinated herring without milt."

WHIRLPOOLS. 175

"I would not advise it," said Dolhanski, "as it seems
that in that territory there already has appeared a Wil-
liam the Conqueror."

"Do you think so ? It may be possible ! That also has
occurred to my mind."

"Was it because the English prudery has disappeared
in a corner?"

"No. Nursing a wounded man is a woman's duty and,
in view of that, prudery must retire to a corner. Even
yesterday's expedition demonstrated only courage and
energy. But through that heavenly mist there reach our
wounded friend such warm rays that — oh ! But that
does not prevent me from being in love. If old Dzwon-
kowski fell in love with your little cousin why should not
I indulge in the same pleasure."

"In the same way you might fall in love with Saint
Cecilia," said Dolhanski. "My cousin is not a woman on
two feet, but a symbol."

And he stopped abruptly for he heard some voices
coming from the depth of the forest and he sped his horse
towards them.

"Nevertheless this clubman does not carry his soul on
his shoulder," thought the doctor.

But it was only a false alarm, as it was merely village
boys tending cattle. The doctor, who alighted from the
britzka to rush to Dolhanski' s assistance in case of need,
soon saw them among the forest thickets. After a while
Dolhanski reappeared and pressing on his eye the monocle
which some twigs had displaced, said :

"That is only an innocent rural picture; cowherds and
cows trespassing in other people's forests ; nothing more."

After which he bade the doctor adieu and returned to
the house.

Miss Anney had not yet retired to sleep, for he found
her conversing with Gronski and engaged in winding iodo-

176 WHIRLPOOLS.

form gauze. At the sight of him, she raised her eyes from
her work and asked :

"Anything new in the forest?"

"Yes, indeed; something has happened to the doctor.
He has been shot."

At this, both suddenly rose, startled:

"What? Where? In the forest?"

"No I In Jastrzeb," answered Dolhanski.

WHIRLPOOLS. 177

III

LADISLAUS complied in every particular with Miss Armey's
injunctions for, immediately after she left, he dozed
again and did not waken until the rays of the sun, which
had ascended high in the heaven, fell on his head. He
then knit his brows and, having partly shaken off his
drowsiness, requested that the roller-blinds be lowered.
The black-haired maid approached the window, wishing
to lower them, but as she did this too eagerly and did not
retain her hold on the string, the roller-blind dropped so
suddenly that it loosened completely from the fastenings
and tumbled down on the window sill. Then the maid,
ashamed of her awkwardness, leaped upon the chair and
from the chair to the sill and began to place anew the rol-
lers in the rings. Krzycki looked at her bent form ; at her
upraised arms and at her black coiled hair, with a not
yet conscious gaze, blinking his eyes as if he could not re-
call for the time being who that was; and not until she
jumped from the frame, displaying at the same time
graceful and plump limbs in black stockings, did he know
who was before him ; and he said :

"Ah! It is Panna Pauly."

"It is I," answered the girl. "I beg your pardon for
making so much noise."

She blushed like a rose under his glance, and he recol-
lected how he once saw her attired only in azure watery
pearls ; so he gazed at her with greater curiosity and said :

"That does not matter. I thank you, little Miss, for
your solicitude."

12

178 WHIRLPOOLS.

At the same time, as a sign of gratitude, he moved the
hand lying on the bed-quilt but feeling simultaneously a
piercing pain, he made a wry face and hissed.

And she sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over him,
and asked with intense anxiety :

"Does it pain?"

"It does."

"Can I hand you anything? Shall I call any one?"

"No, no."

For a certain time, silence followed. Ladislaus frowned
and clinched his teeth ; after which, drawing a deep breath,
he said, as if with a certain rage :

"This was done for me by those scoundrels."

"Oh, if they only fell into my hands," she replied through
her set teeth.

Such a fathomless hatred glistened in her eyes and her
entire countenance assumed such an expression of cruelty,
that it might serve as a model for a Gorgon face. La-
dislaus was so astonished at this sight that he forgot about
his pain.

Again silence ensued. The maid recollected herself
after a while, but her cheeks grew so pale that the dark
down above her lips became more marked :

She then asked: "What can I do to relieve you?"

Her voice now rang with such cordial solicitude that
Ladislaus smiled and answered :

"Nothing, unless it be to commiserate with me."

And in a moment she was transported with spasmodic
grief ; she flung her face at his feet, and, embracing them
with her arms, began to kiss them through the quilt. Her
raven-like head and bent body shook from sobbing.

"Why little lady! PannaPauly!" cried Ladislaus.

And he was compelled to repeat this several times be-
fore she heard him. Finally she rose and, covering her
eyes with her hands, went to the window, pressed her

WHIRLPOOLS. 179

face against the pane, and for some time remained motion-
less. Afterwards she began to wipe her eyes and readjust
her hair, as if in fear that somebody, entering unexpect-
edly, might surmise what had taken place.

In the meantime, all the moments in which he had
come in contact with her coursed through Ladislaus'
mind, commencing with meeting her on the dark path,
when she told him that a were- wolf did not look like that,
and the vision in the bath-room, until his conversation
with her, after that vision, on the yoked elm grove near the
pond. He recalled how from that time she alternately
reddened and grew pale at the sight of him; how she
drooped her eyes and how she sent them after him when-
ever it seemed to her that he was not observing. From
one view, Ladislaus accepted this as the sequel of the in-
cident in the bath-room; from another as admiration for
his shapeliness. This admiration, indeed, flattered his
masculine vanity, but he did not give it much thought, as,
having his mind absorbed with Miss Anney, her servant
did not concern him. Now, however, he understood that
this was something more than the blandishments of an
artful chambermaid after a handsome young heir, and that
this maiden had become distractedly infatuated with him
and in a kind of morbid manner. His love for Miss Anney
was too deep and true for him to be pleased with such a
state of affairs or for him to think that after his wounds
were healed he could take advantage of the maiden's
feelings in the fashion of a gallant. On the contrary, the
thought that he had unwittingly aroused such feelings ap-
peared disagreeable and irksome to him. He was seized
by a fear of what might result from it. There came to him,
as if in a vision, troubles, scenes, and entanglements,
which such a passion might produce. He understood that
this was a fire with which he could not thoughtlessly play ;
that he would have to be careful and not give her any en-

180 WHIRLPOOLS.

couragement. He decided also, notwithstanding the pity
and sympathy he felt in the depth of his heart for the
maiden, to avoid in the future all conversations, all jests,
and everything which might draw her nearer to him, en-
courage intimacy, or provoke in the future outbursts
similar to the one of that day. It even occurred to him to
request Miss Anney not to send her to him any more, but
he abandoned that resolution, observing that it might
cause sorrow or cast upon him a shadow of ludicrousness.
Finally he came to the conclusion that above all it was in-
cumbent upon him not to ask the maid about anything;
not to demand any explanation as to the meaning of that
outbreak and those tears, and to behave coolly and dis-
tantly.

In the meantime the maiden, at the window, having
regained her composure, again approached the bed and
spoke in a meek and hesitating voice :

"I beg your pardon, sir. Be not angry at me, sir."
He closed his eyes and only after an interval replied:
"Little lady, I am not angry, but I need peace."
"I beg pardon/' she repeated yet more meekly.
However she observed that he spoke in a different tone,
drier and colder than previously, and intense uncertainty
was depicted upon her countenance, for she did not know
whether this was the momentary dissatisfaction of the
patient, who, in reality, did desire quiet or whether it was
the displeasure of the young heir at her — a servant
maid — having dared to betray her feelings. Fearing,
however, to again offend him, she became silent and seat-
ing herself upon the chair which Miss Anney had occupied,
she took from the commode the work which previously
had been brought and began to sew, glancing from time to
time with great uneasiness, and as if in fear, at Ladislaus.
He also cast stealthy glances at her, and seeing her regu-
lar features, as if carved out of stone, her sharply out-

WHIRLPOOLS. 181

lined brows, the dark down above her lips, and the ener-
getic, almost inflexible, expression of her face, he thought
that it would be much easier for a man who could arouse
the thoughts and feelings of such a girl to form various
ties than later to be able to free himself from them.

182 WHIRLPOOLS.

IV

CONTRARY to expectations, the doctor did not arrive that
day, owing to an unusual number of engagements and a
few important operations which he was compelled to per-
form without delay. Instead, he sent a young hospital
attendant, skilled in dressing wounds, with a letter in
which he requested Gronski to inform the ladies that they
should consider his postponed visit as proof that no danger
actually threatened the wounded man. Ladislaus, how-
ever was not pleased with this news, for the wounds tor-
mented him acutely; particularly the flesh torn by the
bullet along the ribs afflicted him painfully; and besides,
his mother felt worse. The asthmatic spell recurred,
after which a general weakness followed, so that not-
withstanding her warmest wishes she was not able to
rise from her bed. Pani Otocka did not leave her for the
entire day, and at night her place was to be taken by Miss
Anney, who, however, needing rest after the recent events
and, passing a sleepless night, was sent to sleep by both
sisters and Gronski. The role of the housekeeper of
Jastrzeb was assumed by Marynia, for she wanted by all
means to be useful, and was not permitted to attend to the
patients. Instead, she was intrusted with all the keys;
the management of the house; with conferring and tak-
ing an accounting with the cook whom she feared a little
and did not like, because he looked upon her as if she was
a child who was amusing herself rather than one upon
whose shoulders rested the responsibility of superintending
everything. She adopted a mien full of importance, but
nevertheless "the dear gentleman/' that is Gonski, had

WHIRLPOOLS. 183

to promise that he would be present, as if by chance, in
the room when the accounting was taking place.

As, after the arrival of the doctor on the third day, it
appeared that Ladislaus' condition was quite favorable
and Pani Krzycki's asthmatic spells were leaving her and
her nerves were getting in order, the general aspect of
Jastrzeb became calmer and happier. Dolhanski began
to fill with a certain humor the r6le of a generalissimo of
all the armed forces of Jastrzeb while Gronski played the
part of military governor. The doctor brought with him
a second nurse, who thenceforth was to alternate with
the one who came previously. This relieved the ladies of
the house of the necessity of continual watchfulness and
unnecessary fatigue. Ladislaus alone was dissatisfied
with the arrangement, for he understood that now Miss
Anney would not pass days and nights in his chamber,
and that in all probability he would not see her until he
was able to leave his bed. In fact, it happened that way.
Several times during the day she would come to the ante-
room, send through the attendants whatever was needed,
inquire about his health and also send a "good-night" or
"good-day" but would not enter the room. Ladislaus
sighed, swore quietly, and made life miserable for his at-
tendants, and when he learned from Dolhanski of the en-
thusiasm with which the doctor spoke of Miss Anney
he began to suspect him of purposely sending the attend-
ants in order to make it more difficult for him to see her.
His mother rose the fourth day and, feeling much better,
visited him daily and sat up with him for hours. Ladis-
laus often asked himself the question whether she sur-
mised his feelings. They were indeed known to all the
guests in the house, but there was a possibility that she
did not suspect anything, as for a considerable time be-
fore the occurrence in the forest she did not, in truth,
leave her room ; in consequence of which she seldom saw

184 WHIRLPOOLS.

her son and Miss Anney together. Krzycki often de-
liberated over the question whether he should speak with
his mother at once about it or defer the matter to a later
date. In favor of the first thought, there was the con-
sideration that his mother, while he lay in bed wounded,
would not dare to interpose any strenuous objections from
fear that his condition might grow worse. But on the
other hand, such calculation, in which his beloved one
and the whole happiness of his life were involved, appeared
to him that day as miserable craftiness. He thought be-
sides that to extort an assen^ from his mother through his
sickness would be something derogatory to Miss Anney,
before whom the doors of the Jastrzeb manor-house and
the arms of the entire family should be widely and joy-
fully opened. But he was restrained by another consid-
eration. And this was that, notwithstanding the conver-
sation he at one time had with Gronski, notwithstanding
the words he exchanged with the lady, notwithstanding
her solicitude, her sacrifices, and the courage with which
she did not hesitate to drive for the doctor, and finally
notwithstanding the visible marks of feeling which could
be discerned in every glance she bestowed upon him,
Ladislaus doubted and did not dare to believe in his own
good fortune. He was young, inexperienced, in love not
only up to his ears but like a student; therefore full of
alternating uncertainties, hopes, joys, and doubts. He
doubted also himself. At times he felt at his shoulders
wings, as it were, and in his soul a desire for lofty flights ;
a latent ability to perform acts clearly heroic ; and at other
times he thought: "Who am I, that such a flower should
fall upon my bosom ? There are people who are endowed
with talent; who possess education ; and others who have
millions, and I, what? I am a mere nobleman farmer,
who will all his life dig the soil, like a mole. Have I then
the right to pinion to such a life, or rather to confine in a

WHIRLPOOLS. 185

sort of cage such a paradisiacal bird, which soars freely
across the firmament for the delectation and admiration of
mankind?" And he was seized by despair. But when he
pictured to himself that the moment might arrive when
this paradisiacal bird might fly away forever from him,
then he looked upon it with amazement as if upon a
calamity which he did not deserve. He also had his hours
of hope, especially in the morning when he felt better and
stronger. Then he recalled everything that had taken
place between them, from her first arrival at Jastrzeb and
his meeting her at Zarnowski's funeral until that last
night when he pressed her hand to his lips and gained
greater confidence. Why, at that time, she told him "not
a word about anything until the wounds are healed."
Therefore through that alone she gave to him the right to
repeat to her that she was dearer to him than the whole
world and to surrender into her hands his fate, his future,
and his entire life. Let her do with them what she will.
In the meanwhile his mother will accustom herself to
her, will grow more intimate, and become more attached
to her. And her maternal heart is so full of admiration
and gratitude for what Miss Anney had done for him
that from her lips fell the words "God sent her here."
Ladislaus smiled at the thought that his mother, however,
ascribed the sacrifices and courage of the young maiden
not to any ardent feeling but to an exceptionally honest
heart, as well as to English training, which was condu-
cive to energy alike in men and women. And she had
likewise repeated to Pani Otocka several times that she
would like to bring up her Anusia to be such a brave
woman ; give her such strength, health, and such love for
her "fellow-men." Pani Otocka smiled also, hearing
these praises, and Ladislaus thought that Miss Anney
perhaps would not have done the same for her fellow-men,
and this thought filled him with happiness.

186 WHIRLPOOLS.

Eventually he became quite certain that his mother
would consent to his marriage with Miss Anney, but he
was anxious as to how she would agree. And in this re-
gard he was much distressed. His mother, judged by
former requirements and conceptions, was a person of
more than medium education. She possessed high social
refinement, read a number of books, and was proficient
in the French and Italian languages. During her younger
days she passed considerable time abroad, but only her
closest friends could tell how many national and hereditary
prejudices were concealed in her and to what extent all
that was not Polish, particularly if it did not of necessity
come from France, appeared to her peculiar, outlandish,
strange, and even shocking. This appeared accidentally
once before the attack upon Ladislaus when she saw Miss
Anney' s English prayer-book and, opening it, noticed a
prayer beginning with "Oh Lord." Belonging to a gen-
eration which did not study English, and having lived in
retirement for many years in Jastrzeb, Pani Krzycki
could not imagine the Lord other than a being with yellow
whiskers, dressed in checkered clothes, and to Marynia's
great amusement could not by any means understand how
the Divinity could be thus addressed. In vain Ladislaus
explained to her that in the French and Polish languages
analogical titles are given to God. She regarded that as
something different, and exacted a promise from Miss
Anney that she would pray from a Polish book, which she
promised to buy for her.

Finally the fact that Miss Anney was not in all probabil-
ity a member of the nobility would play an important
part. Ladislaus feared that his mother, having consented
to the marriage, might in the depths and secrecy of her
soul, deem it a mesalliance. This thought irritated and
depressed him immeasurably and was one of the reasons
why he postponed his consultation with his mother until
their arrival in Warsaw.

WHIRLPOOLS. 187

He was angered yet more at his enforced confinement
in his bed ; so that for three days he declared each evening
that he would rise the following morning, and when on
the fourth day Miss Anney and Marynia said to him
through the doorway, " Good-day," he actually did get up,
but in his weakened condition, he suffered from dizziness
and was forced to lie down again. He was steadily im-
proving, however; he continued to sigh more and more
and felt his inactivity most keenly.

"I have got enough of this loquacious doctor/' he said
to Gronski, "enough of dressings and iodoform. I envy
not only you, sir, but even Dolhanski, who is roaming
about on my horses all over creation, and very likely
reaches as far as Gorek."

"He does," answered Gronski gayly, "and this leads
me to think that he makes a mystery of it, for he has ceased
to talk about those ladies."

This was but a half truth for Dolhanski did actually go
to Gorek but did not remain entirely silent about the
ladies, for returning the next day, he entered Ladislaus'
room, bearing with him still the odor of the horse, and said :

"Imagine to yourself that the Wlocek ladies received a
command from some kind of committee from under a
dark star to pay under the penalty of death one thousand
roubles for 'party* purposes."

"There you have it!" cried Gronski. "Now that is
becoming an every-day occurrence. Who knows whether
similar commands are not awaiting us upon our desks in
Warsaw?"

"Well, what of it?" asked Ladislaus.

"Nothing," answered Dolhanski; "those ladies first
argued as to who was to first expose her breast to shield
the other; then fainted; after that they came to, then
began to bid each other farewell, and finally asked me my
advice as to what was to be done."

188 WHIRLPOOLS.

"And what advice did you give them?"

"I advised them to tell the executors of the command,
who would come for the money, that their plenipotentiary
and treasurer, Pan Dolhanski, resided at such and such
address in Warsaw."

"Really, did you advise them to do that?"

"I give you my word."

"In such a case, they will undoubtedly call upon you."

"You can imagine what rich booty they will get! I
also will have some recreation in these tedious times."

"Pardon me," said Grqnski, "the times are trying;
that is certain, but no one can say that they are tedious."

"But for whom?" answered Dolhanski. "If I ever
borrow money from you, then I will have to conform to
your inclination, but before that time you cannot draw me
into any political discussion. In the meantime I will only
tell you this much, that I am the only social microbe that
can remain at perfect peace. All that I require is that
1 bridge' should be going normally at the club and soon
this will be impossible. These times may be interesting to
you but not for me."

"At any rate," observed Gronski, "a certain ventila-
tion of torpid conditions is taking place, and since you
compared yourself to a microbe, by the same token, you
admit that these are times for disinfection."

At this Dolhanski turned to Ladislaus.

"Thank Gronski," he said, "for the disinfection started
with you; from which the plain inference is to be drawn
that you are a more harmful microbe than I am."

"Get married, get married," answered Ladislaus ban-
teringly; "for you, a good marriage settlement would be
the best cure for pessimism."

"That may be possible, as in that case, I may have
something with which I can leave this dear country and
settle elsewhere. I once told you that Providence speaks

WHIRLPOOLS. 189

through the lips of little innocents. But I should have
thought of marriage when in the perspective there were
no Goreks, but instead, four million franks/'

"Did you have such an opportunity?"

"As you see me here. It happened in Ostend; an old
Belgian relict of a manufacturer of preserves, and having
cash to the amount specified, wanted to marry me and
that for the waiting."

"And what?"

"And nothing. I remember what Pan Birkowski, who
at that time was in Ostend, told me. ' Do business/ he said.
'At the worst, you may leave the old woman two millions
and leave her in the lurch, and you can take two millions
with you and enjoy yourself like a king/ '

"And what did you say to that?"

"And I said this to that: What is that? Am I to give
from my own hard-earned money two millions to an ugly
old woman? For nothing! And now I think that for a
mere quibble, I permitted a fortune to slip away from me
and that the time may come when owing to a ' retirement
from business' I will have to sacrifice myself for a smaller
price."

Gronski and Ladislaus began to laugh, but Dolhanski,
who spoke with greater bitterness than they supposed,
shrugged his shoulders and said :

"Amuse yourselves, amuse yourselves. One of you
already has received a taste of the times and the other,
God grant, will not escape so easily. Nice times, indeed !
Chaos, anarchy, political orgy, lack of any kind of authority,
the dance of dynamite with the knout, and the downfall
of ' bridge/ And you laugh !"

190 WHIRLPOOLS.

NEVERTHELESS that which Dolhanski said about a want
of any kind of authority appeared to be not exactly the
truth, for, after an interval of one week, the authorities
did give signs of life.

An imposing armed force, together with gendarmes and
police, made its appearance.

Of course the perpetrators of the attempt upon Krzycki
did not wait a whole week for the arrival at Jastrzeb of a
military relief, as they evidently had engagements in other
parts of the county. As a result the Jastrzeb, as well as the
Rzeslewo, forests appeared to be deserted.

In lieu of this, about a score of men in Jastrzeb, itself,
were placed under arrest. Among these were the two
forest rangers, the old coachman who was wounded at the
time of the attack, and all the workingmen at the saw-
mill.

In the manor-house all the passports were verified with
exceeding care, reports were written, and the host, hostess,
and guests, not excluding the ladies, were subjected to a
strict examination.

From these examinations it developed that in reality
they did not come on account of the attempt upon the
proprietor of Jastrzeb, but for the purpose of apprehend-
ing a dangerous revolutionist, a certain Laskowicz, who,
according to the most reliable information secured by the
police, was hiding in Jastrzeb and was shielded by its
denizens.

The declaration of the Krzyckis to the police, that in
due season the passport of Laskowicz was forwarded, and

WHIRLPOOLS. 191

if Laskowicz had left the city he must have received it, as
well as the assurances of all present that Laskowicz was
not in Jastrzeb did not find any credence.

The authorities were too experienced and shrewd to
believe such nonsense and they detected in them "an evil
design, and want of sincerity and cordial candor."

The house also was subjected to a most painstaking
search, beginning in the garret and ending in the cellar.
They knocked on the walls to ascertain whether there were
any secret hiding places. They searched among the dresses
and linen of the women ; in the hearth, under the divans,
in the drawers, in the boxes for phenicine pastilles, which
Gronski brought with him ; and finally in the manor out-
buildings, in the mangers of the stable, in the milk churn-
ers, in the tar-boxes, and even in the beehives, whose
inmates, undoubtedly being permeated with the evil-
disposition prevalent in Jastrzeb, resisted the search in a
manner as evil disposed as it was painful.

But as the search, notwithstanding its thoroughness and
the intelligence with which it was conducted, was not
productive of any results, they took a hundred and some
tens of books, the farm register, the entire private corre-
spondence of the hosts as well as the guests, the bone
counters used in playing cards, a little bell with a Napole-
onic figure, a safety razor, a barometer, and, notwithstand-
ing the license which Krzycki possessed, all the fowling
pieces, not excepting a toy-gun with which corks were
shot and which belonged to little Stas.

Ladislaus himself would have been undoubtedly ar-
rested as an accomplice, if the doctor, who treated the
captain for his heart trouble, had not arrived and if Dol-
hanski, growing impatient beyond all endurance, had not
shown the captain a message before sending it to the city.
It was addressed to the highly influential general W.,
with whom Dolhanski played whist at the club, and it

192 WHIRLPOOLS. ^

complained of the brutality and the arbitrariness of the
search.

This to a considerable extent cooled off the ardor of the
captain and his subordinates, who previously, at the scru-
tiny of the passports, had learned that Dolhanski was a
member of the club.

In this manner Ladislaus preserved his liberty, supple-
mented by police surveillance, and little Stas regained his
toy-gun for shooting corks. The captain could not return
the arms as he had peremptory orders in black and white
to confiscate even the ancient fowling-pieces of the whole
community.

"Douxpays! Douxpays!" cried Dolhanski after the
departure of the police. "Revolvers now can be found
only in the hands of the bandits. In view of this I will
submit to a demission as the commander-in-chief of the
Jastrzeb armed forces, land as well as naval. We are now
dependent upon the kindness or unkindness of fate."

"Go to Warsaw, ladies and gentlemen, to-morrow,"
said the doctor; "here there is no joking."

"Let us go to Warsaw," repeated Dolhanski, "and, not
losing any time, enroll in the ranks of the believers in
expropriation. I regard social revolutionists as the only
insurance association hi this country which does really
insure."

"From accidents," added Krzycki; "and we shall in-
sure with my personal friend and ' accomplice ' Laskowicz."

To this Dolhanski replied :

"That accomplice gave you a payment on account. In
the future you will receive yet more."

To Gronski's mind came thoughts of the personal enmity
of the young medical student to Krzycki and the letter of
Laskowicz to Marynia, of which he among the men in
Jastrzeb alone knew.

It was quite probable that Laskowicz saw in Ladis-

WHIRLPOOLS. 193

laus a rival and future aspirant for the hand of Panna
Marynia who, besides, had nipped in the bud his work in
Rzeslewo and that he might have thought that he actually
could gratify his hatred from personal consideration, and
in the name of the "cause."

Laskowicz, himself, in his own way, might have been an
honest man, but the party ethics were, in relation to the
antiquated morality, revolutionary, and sanctioned such
things.

But at present there was not much time to ponder over
that ; so after a while Gronski waved his hand and said :

" Whether or not the hand of Laskowicz is imbrued in
this the future will show. Now we must think of some-
thing else. I assert positively that I will take away my
ladies from here, but I wish that the entire Jastrzeb
family would follow my example."

After which, he addressed the doctor.

"Would it be safe for Ladislaus to travel to-morrow?"

"He? Even as far as England," answered the doctor.

Gronski and Dolhanski laughed at these words but
Ladislaus blushed like a student and said :

" It will be necessary to inform the ladies."

"And to-morrow the general exodus will take place,"
added Gronski.

And he went to the ladies, who received the news of the
decision with evident relief. Both sisters decided to have
Pani Krzycki at their residence in Warsaw, but she, desir-
ing to be with her son, would not accept the invitation;
and only consented when Gronski announced that he
would take Ladislaus to his home and guaranteed that he
should not suffer for want of care and comfort. Miss
Anney, whose apartments were directly opposite to those
of Pani Otocka also offered her rooms for the use of the
younger members of the Krzycki family and their female
teachers. In the meanwhile the doctor permitted Ladislaus

13

194 WHIRLPOOLS.

to get up, so that he would not have to start on his journey
directly from his bed. In the evening the entire company
assembled on the garden veranda. There was missing
only Dolhanski who rode off to Gorek, for he had decided
to advise Pani Wlocek and Panna Kajetana to remove
to the city likewise. Ladislaus, after a considerable loss
of blood and a somewhat lengthy confinement in bed,
looked pale and miserable, but his countenance had ac-
quired a more subtile expression and actually become
handsome. At the present time the ladies were occupied
with him, as an invalid, wiih extraordinary watchfulness.
He was a person who attracted general sympathy; there-
fore, though from time to time his eyes grew dim, he
assured his mother that it was well with him, and he really
was delighted to breathe the fresh evening air. At times
he was overcome by a light drowsiness. Then he closed
his eyelids and the conversation hushed, but when he
opened them again he saw directed towards himself the
eyes of his mother and, illuminated by the setting sun,
the young faces of the ladies, which appeared to him
simply angelic. He was surrounded by love and friend-
ship ; therefore it was well with him. His heart surged
with feelings of gratitude, and at the same time with regret
that those good Jastrzeb days would soon end. In his
soul he cherished a hope that he would not be absent from
Jastrzeb long, and promised himself a speedy return, and
he promised this with all the strength with which a person
craves happiness. Nevertheless, the times were so strange,
so uncertain, and so many things might happen which it
was impossible to foresee, that involuntarily a fear gener-
ated in his heart as to what turn the current of events
would take; what the future of the country would be,
and what, in a year or two, would become of Jastrzeb,
which, indeed, became precious to him for it opened before
him the portals, beyond which he beheld the great bright-

WHIRLPOOLS. 195

ness of happiness. Love, as well as a bird, needs a nest.
So Ladislaus plainly could not conceive of himself and the
light-haired lady being anywhere else than at Jastrzeb.
For this, his heart beat with redoubled force, when glanc-
ing at her, he indulged in fancies and imagined that per-
haps after a year, or sooner, she will sit upon the same
veranda, as the lady of the house and as his wife. Then
he turned towards her and asked her with his soul and
eyes: "Dost thou guess and perceive my thoughts?"
But she, perhaps because she was restrained by the pres-
ence of so many witnesses, did not reply to his glances;
sitting as if immersed in thought and letting her gaze
follow the swallows, which flitted so nimbly above the
trees of the garden and the pond. Ladislaus, when he
now looked at her was impressed, as if with certain ad-
miration, at the contrast between her full-grown form,
powerful arms, and well developed bosom and her small,
girlish face. But he saw in all this only a new charm and
spell under whose powers there flew at times through his
love a burning desire similar indeed to pain and stifling
the breath in his breast.

In the meantime the sun sank measurably and began
to bathe in the ruddy evening twilight. From the freshly
mown lawns came a strong fragrance of the little hay
heaps, which were warmed by the daily summer heat.
Somehow the air with the approach of night became more
bracing, for, from the alder-trees bordering on the pond,
came from time to time a cool breath, so weak and light,
however, that the leaves on the trees did not stir. The
swallows described curves higher and higher above the
reddened surface of the pond. In the lofty poplars with
trimmed tops a stork clattered in his nest, now stooping
with his head backward and then lowering it as if bow-
ing to the setting sun or officiating at the evening
vespers.

196 WHIRLPOOLS.

"I will play something as a farewell to Jastrzeb," Mary-
nia suddenly announced.

"Ah, beloved creature!" said Gronski; "shall I go for
the stand and notes?"

"No. I will play something from memory."

And saying this, she handed to Miss Anney an album
with views of Jastrzeb, and hurried upstairs. In a short
time she returned with her violin. For a time she kept it
propped on her shoulder and raising her eyes upwards,
considered what she should play. She selected Schu-
mann's "Ich grolle nicht."^ The overflowing tones filled
the quiet of the garden. They began to sing, muse, long,
and weep ; oscillate, hush, and slumber, and with them
the human soul acted in unison. Sorrow became more
melancholy, yearning more longing, and love more tender
and deeply enamoured. And "the little divinity" con-
tinued playing — white in her muslin dress — calm, with
pensive eyes lost somewhere in the illimitable distance,
immaculate, and as if borne to heaven by music and her
own playing. To Gronski it seemed that he had before
him some kind of mystic lily, and he began in his soul to
say to her, as it were, a litany, in which every word was a
worship of the little violinist, because she was playing and
she awoke in him a love as destitute of the slightest earthly
dross as if she were not a maiden composed of blood and
flesh, but in reality some kind of mystic lily.

Marynia had ceased to play and her hand, with the vio-
lin, hung at her side. No one thanked her; no one ut-
tered a word, for the strains of that music lingered with
all and, echo-like, it was yet playing within them. Pani
Otocka unwittingly drew nearer to Gronski as if they were
attracted towards each other by their mutual worship of
this beloved child. In Pani Krzycki's eyes glittered tears,
which under the spell of the music were contributed and
provoked by memories of former years and the present

WHIRLPOOLS. 197

suffering of her son and fresh worries about him, and the
uncertainty of the future. Miss Anney sat in reverie,
holding unknowingly between her knees the album, which
during Marynia's playing had dropped from her hands;
and through the open doors, in the already dimmed depths
of the salon, could be seen the indistinct form of a woman,
who evidently also was listening to the music.

A somewhat stronger breeze which blew from the alder-
trees awoke all, as if from a half-dream. Then Pani
Krzycki turned towards her son :

"A chill is coming from the pond. Perhaps you may
wish to return to your room."

"No," he answered, "I feel better than I have felt for a
long time."

And he began to assure her that he did not feel any
chill and afterwards appealed to the doctor, who, lulled
to sleep by the music, could not at once understand what
was the matter.

"Can Laudie remain?" asked Pani Krzycki.

"He can, he can; only as soon as the sun disappears, it
will be necessary to cover him better."

Afterwards the doctor looked at his watch and added :

"It is time for me to go, but I have had so few evenings
like this that it is a hardship to leave. As God sees, it is a
hardship."

And here he began to rub his fatigued brow with the
palm of his hand. Pani Krzycki and Ladislaus declared
that they would not permit him to leave before supper.
The doctor again looked at his watch, but before he could
make any reply there appeared upon the veranda the same
feminine figure that had been listening to the music in the
depths of the parlor, but this time with two plaids upon
her arm.

"Is that you, Pauly?" said Miss Anney. "Ah, how
sensible you are,"

198 WHIRLPOOLS.

And Panna Pauly began to cover Ladislaus with the
plaids. She placed one over his shoulders and the other
around his limbs. In doing this she knelt and bent in
such a way that for a moment her breast rested on
Krzycki's knee.

"Thank you, little Miss, thank you," he said, some-
what confused.

She glanced quickly into his eyes and then left without
a word.

"But I have taken your plaids," Ladislaus said ad-
dressing Miss Anney. *

"That does not matter. I am dressed warmly. Only,
you, sir, will have to take care that the wounded shoulder
is well covered."

And approaching him, she began to push lightly and
carefully a corner of the plaid between the back of the
chair and his shoulder.

"I am not hurting you?" she asked.

"No, no. How can I thank you?"

And he looked at her with such enamoured eyes that
for the first time it occurred to his mother that there might
be something more than gratitude in this.

She glanced once or twice at Pani Zosia's delicate
countenance, and sighed, and her heart was oppressed
with fear, disquiet, and regret. This was her ideal for
her son; this was her secret fancy. She, indeed, had
fallen in love with her whole soul with the young English-
woman, and if foreign blood did not course in her veins,
she would not have had any objections, but nevertheless
this first fleeting suspicion that the structure, which she,
in her soul, had erected from the moment she became
intimate with Zosia, might crumble, was to her immeasur-
ably disagreeable. For a time she felt, as it were, a dis-
like for Miss Anney. She determined also from that
moment to observe them both more carefully, and to
speak with Gronski,

WHIRLPOOLS. 199

But in the further course of the evening her hopes re-
vived, for when the company returned to the salon it
seemed to her after a time that what she had seen on the
veranda was an illusion. In fact that day did not end for
Ladislaus and Miss Anney as serenely as the setting sun
had augured. A cooler wind blew between them, and Pani
Krzycki could not know that the reason for it, on the part
of her boy, was jealousy. Miss Anney, after the return to
the parlor, began, on the side, a conversation with the
doctor which continued so long that Ladislaus became
irritated. He observed that she spoke not only with anima-
tion, but also with a desire to please. He saw the bright-
ened visage of the doctor, from which it was easy to read
that the conversation afforded him sincere pleasure, and
a serpent stung Ladislaus' heart. He could not overhear
what Miss Anney was saying. It seemed to him only
that she was urging something. On the other hand, the
doctor could not speak so quietly, but to Krzycki's eaves-
dropping ears from time to time came such fragmentary
expressions as "I intended to do that, only after a week" ;
"Ha!" "Some may object"; "If that is the case, very
well " ; " It is well known how England conquers " ; " Good,
good."

Ladislaus decided with all possible coolness to ask Miss
Anney whom England had now subjugated and whether
the newspapers had made any mention of it, but when
Miss Anney and the doctor at the conclusion of their tSte-
a-te*te had rejoined the rest of the company, he changed his
plan and, with the offended dignity of a schoolboy who is
ready not only to spite those dear to him but also himself,
he determined to cover himself with the cloak of indiffer-
ence. With this view he turned to Zosia and began to
inquire about the Zalesin estate and begged her permis-
sion to inspect it ; and she told him that it would give her
great pleasure. He thanked her so warmly that his

200 WHIRLPOOLS.

mother was led into an error. Miss Anney tried several
times to participate in the conversation, but receiving
from him indifferent replies, surprised and slightly touched,
began to listen to what Gronski was saying.

After supper the doctor announced that he would have
to leave. For a while he spoke with Gronski, and then took
his leave of the ladies, repeating, "Until to-morrow; at
the railway station." He advised Ladislaus to return
immediately to his room and secure a good rest before
proceeding on his journey. Gronski, after escorting the
doctor to the gate, accompanied Ladislaus to his room,
and when they found themselves alone, perceiving his
mien and easily surmising the cause asked: "What ails
you? You are so agreeable."

And Krzycki answered with some irritation: "I am still
feeling weak; otherwise I am as usual."

But Gronski shrugged his shoulders.

"These," said he, "are the usual misunderstandings
of lovers, but you, above all, are a child and caused her
unpleasantness. And do you know what for? Simply
because she urged Szremski to accompany you to Warsaw."

Ladislaus' heart quivered, but he put a good face on a
bad matter and would not yet be reconciled.

" I do not feel at all weak and can get along without his
assistance."

To this Gronski replied:

" Good-night to you and your logic."

And he left the room.

But Ladislaus when he was undressed and in bed,
suddenly felt tears welling in his eyes and began with ex-
traordinary tenderness to beg pardon of — the pillow.

WHIRLPOOLS. 201

VI

GRONSKI, who by nature was very obliging and devoted
to his friends, was at the same time a man of ample means
and high culture; in consequence of which Ladislaus
found in his home not only such care as sincere good will
alone can bestow, and comforts, but also various things
which were lacking in Jastrzeb. He found, especially,
books, a few paintings, engravings, and various small ob-
jects of vertu ; moreover, the residence was spacious, well-
ventilated, and not over-crowded with unnecessary articles.
Thanks to the host a highly intellectual and esthetic
atmosphere prevailed, in which the young heir felt indeed
smaller and less self-confident than in Jastrzeb, but which
he breathed with pleasure. He was seized, however, with
a fear that by a lengthy stay he would cause his older friend
trouble, and on the following evening he began to argue
with Gronski about going to a hotel.

"Even the doctor considers me well," he said. "The
best proof of it is that he permits me to go about the city
in three days."

"I heard something about five," answered Gronski.

"But that was yesterday; so, not counting to-day, three
remain. You have your habits which you must not change
on my account. It is indeed a pleasure to look at all these
things ; so I will come here, but it is one thing to visit you
for an hour, or even two, and another to introduce confu-
sion into your mode of life."

"I will only say this," answered Gronski, "Pani Otocka
and Panna Marynia regard me as an old bachelor and
promised to make a call to-morrow, or the day after, as
they have often done before, in the company of Miss Armey.

202 WHIRLPOOLS.

Do you see that armchair ? On it, during the music-play-
ing, sat your light-haired beauty. Go, go to the hotel,
and we will see who, besides your mother, will visit you."

"You are too good."

"I am an old egotist. You see that I have a few old
household effects, which, during the course of my life, I
have collected ; but one thing, though I were as rich as
Morgan and Jay Gould combined, I can unfortunately
never buy, and that is youth. And you have so much of
it that you could establish a bank and issue stock. From
you rays plainly emanate. *Let them illuminate and warm
me a little. In other words, do not worry, and keep quiet
if you are comfortable here with me."

" I only do not desire to be spoiled by too much attention,
for, speaking sincerely, I feel I am strong enough now."

"So much the better. Thank God, Miss Anney, and
the doctor that the journey did not injure you. That is
what I feared a little."

"It did not hurt me, neither did it help."

"How is that?"

"Because I had a hope that on the road I could tell my
bright queen that which I hid in my soul, but in the mean-
time it developed that this was a foolish hope. We sat in
the compartment like herrings. The doctor hung over me
continually, like a hangman over a good soul, and there
was not a chance, even for a moment."

"Never, never make any avowals in a railway car, for
in the rumble and noise the most pathetic passages are
lost. Finally, as Laskowicz has not dispatched you to the
other world, you will easily find an opportunity."

" Do you really think that it was the work of Laskowicz ?"

"No. But if ever I should ascertain that it was he, I
would not be much surprised; for such a situation, in
which one could gratify self and serve a good cause, occurs
rarely."

WHIRLPOOLS. 203

"How gratify self and serve a good cause?"

"Good in his judgment. Do you not live from human
sweat and blood?"

"That is very true. But why should my death afford
him any gratification personally ? "

"Because he has conceived a hatred for you; has fallen
in love with some one and regards you as a rival."

Hearing this, Ladislaus jumped up as if scalded.

"What, would he dare?"

"I assure you that he would dare," replied Gronski
quietly, " only he made a mistake. But that he is not want-
ing in courage he gave proofs when he wrote an avowal
of love to Marynia."

Ladislaus opened wide his eyes and began to wink:

"What was that?"

"I did not want to speak to you about it in Jastrzeb, as
at that time you often drove to the city. I feared that you
might meet him and might start a disagreeable brawl.
But at present I can tell you every thing; Laskowicz has
fallen in love with Marynia and wrote a letter to her,
which of course remained unanswered."

"And he thought that I also am in love with Marynia."

" Permit me ; that would not be anything extraordinary.
He might have overheard something. Whoever is in love
usually imagines that every one is reaching after the ob-
ject of his love. Understand that Laskowicz did not confide
in me, but that is my hypothesis which, if it is errone-
ous, so much the better for Laskowicz. The party sent
you a death sentence in consequence of his reports and this
was working in his hand for personal reasons. After all,
he may not have participated personally in the attempt — "

"Did you see him after that letter?"

"How could I see him, since he wrote after his de-
parture. But it was lucky that I advised Pani Otocka to
burn that lucubration, for if the letter had been found

204 WHIRLPOOLS.

during the search at Jastrzeb, you can readily understand
what inferences the acuteness of the police might have
drawn."

Anger glittered in Ladislaus' eyes.

"I prefer that Miss Anney be not involved," he said;
"nevertheless I would not advise Laskowicz to meet me.
That such a baboon, as Dolhanski says, should dare to
lift his eyes to our female relative in our home and, in ad-
dition thereto, write to her — this I regard plainly as an
insult which I cannot forgive."

" In all probability you wjl never meet him ; so you will
not move a finger."

"I? Then you do not know me. Why not?"

"Among other reasons, out of consideration for our
pleasant situation. Consider; duels they will not accept
and in this they are right. What then? Will you cudgel
him with a cane or pull his ears?"

"That is quite possible."

"Wait ! In the first place there was nothing in the let-
ter resembling an insult and, again, what further? The
police would take you both into custody, and there they
would discover that they had caught Laskowicz, a revolu-
tionary bird, whom they have been seeking for a long
time and would send him to Siberia, or even hang him.
Can you take anything like that upon your conscience?"

"May the deuce take these times," cried Ladislaus.
"A man is always in a situation from which there is no
escape."

"As is usual between two anarchies," answered Gronski.
"After all, this is a slight illustration."

Further conversation was stopped by the entrance of a
servant who handed to Gronski a visiting card and he,
glancing at it, said :

"Ask him to step in."

Afterwards he asked Ladislaus:

WHIRLPOOLS. 205

"Do you know Swidwicki?"

"I have heard the name, but am not acquainted with
the man."

"He is a relative of Pani Otocka's deceased husband.
A very peculiar figure."

At that moment Swidwicki entered the room. He was
a man of forty years, bald, tall, lean, with an intelligent
and sour face, and at the same time impudent. He was
attired carelessly in a suit which appeared to fit him too
loosely. He had, however, something which betrayed his
connection with the higher social spheres.

"How is Swidwa?" Gronski began.

After which he introduced him to Ladislaus and con-
tinued :

"What has happened to you? I have not seen you for
an age."

" Why, you were out of the city."

" Yes ; but before that time you did not show up for a
month."

" In my old age I have become an anchorite."

"Why?"

"Because I am wearied by the folly of men who pass
for reasonable beings and by the malice of men who pose
as good. Finally, I now roam all over the streets from
morning until night. Ah! There exist ( Attic Nights/
' Florentine Nights,' and I have a desire to write about
'Warsaw Days/ Delightful days I Titles of the separate
chapters 'Hands up ! The Rabble on Top/ 'Away with
the Geese/ Do you know that at this moment there are
so many troops patrolling the streets that any one else in
my place would have been arrested ten times."

"I know, but how do you manage to avoid it ?"

" I walk everywhere as peacefully as if in my own rooms.
The way I do it is simple. As often as I am not drunk, I
pretend to be drunk. You would not believe what sym-

206 WHIRLPOOLS.

pathy and respect an intoxicated person commands.
And in my opinion this is but just, for whoever is ' under
the influence* from morning till night is innocent and
well thinking; upon him the so-called social order can
rely with confidence."

"Surely. But the social order which depended upon
such people would not stand upon steady legs."

"Who, to-day, does stand on steady legs? Doctrines
intoxicate more than alcohol — therefore at this moment
all are drunk. The empire is staggering, the revolution
is reeling, the parties are foundering, and a third person
stands on the side and looks on. Soon all will tumble to
the ground. Then there will be order, and may it come as
soon as possible."

"You ought to be that third person."

"The third person is the German and we are fools.
We begin by falling to loggerheads, and have reached such
a state that the only salvation for our social soul would
be a decent civil war."

Here he became silent and after a while turned to
Ladislaus.

" I see that your eyes are wide open, but nevertheless it
is so. A civil war is a superb thing. Nothing like it to
clarify the situation and purify the atmosphere. But to
be led to such a situation and not to be able to create it is
the acme of misfortune or folly."

"I confess that I do not understand," said Ladislaus.

Gronski motioned with his hand and remarked :

"Do not attempt to, for after every fifteen minutes of
conversation you will not know what is black and what is
white and your head will swim, or you will get a fever,
which as a wounded man you should try to avoid."

"True," said Swidwicki, "I had heard and even read in
some newspaper of the occurrence and paid close atten-
tion to it because in your home Pan Gronski and Pani

WHIRLPOOLS. 207

Otocka with her sister were being entertained. I am a
relative of the late aged Otocka. Those women must
have been scared. But if they think that they are safer
here in the city they are mistaken."

"Judging from what can be seen, it is really no safer
here. Have you seen those ladies yet?"

"No, I do not like to go there."

At this, Ladislaus, who by nature was impetuous and
bold, frowned, and looking Swidwicki in the eyes, replied :

" I do not ask the reason, for that does not interest me,
but I give you warning that they are my relatives."

"Whose cause a young knight would ha veto champion,"
answered Swidwicki, gazing at Ladislaus. " Ah, no ! If I
had any intention of saying anything against the ladies I
would not say it, as Gronski would throw me down the
stairs and I have a favor to ask of him. What I said is
the highest praise for them and simply gall and worm-
wood for me."

"Beg pardon, again; I do not understand."

"For you see that for the average Pole to have respect
for any one and not to be able to sharpen his teeth upon
him is always annoying. I cannot speak of the ladies as I
would wish, that is, disparagingly. I cannot endure ideal
women; besides that, whenever it happens that I pass
an evening with them, I become a more decent man and
that is a luxury which in these times we cannot afford."

Ladislaus began to laugh and Gronski said :

"I told you that surely your head would swim."

After which to Swidwicki :

"If he should get any worse, I will induce him to send
the doctor's and apothecary's bill to you."

"If that is the case, I will go," answered Swidwicki,
"but you had better come with me into another room for
I have some business with you which I prefer to discuss
without witnesses."

208 WHIRLPOOLS.

And, taking leave of Ladislaus, he stepped out. Gronski
accompanied him to the ante-room and after a while re-
turned, shrugging his shoulders :

"What a strange gentleman," said Ladislaus. "I hope
I am not indiscreet, but did he want to borrow any money
from you ? "

"Worse," answered Gronski. "This time it was a few
Falk engravings. I positively refused as he most fre-
quently returns money or rather he lets you take it out of
his annuity, but books, engravings, and such things he
never gives back." *

"Is he making a collection?"

"On the contrary he throws or gives them away; loans
or destroys them. Do I know? You will now have an
opportunity of meeting him oftener, for though I refused
to loan them, I permitted him to come here to look over
and study them. He undoubtedly is writing a book about
Falk."

"Ah, so he is a literary man."

"He might have been one. As you will meet him, I
must warn you a little against him. I will describe him
briefly. He is a man to whom the Lord gave a good name,
a large estate, good looks, great ability, and a good heart,
and he has succeeded in wasting them all."

"Even a good heart?"

"Inasmuch as he is a rather pernicious person, it is
better that he does not write. For you see that it may
happen that somebody's brains decay, just as with people,
sick with consumption, their lungs decay. But no one
has the right to feed the nation with the putrefaction of
his lungs or his brains. And there are many like him.
He does not act for the public weal but merely for his own
private affairs. Do you know how he accounts for not
accomplishing anything in his life? In this way: that
to do so one must believe and to believe it is necessary

WHIRLPOOLS. 209

to have a certain amount of stupidity which he does not
possess. I am not speaking now of religious matters.
He simply does not believe that anything can be true
or false, just or unjust, good or bad. But Balzac wisely
says: 'Qui dit doute, dit impuissance/ Swidwicki is
irritated and filled with bitterness by the fact that he
is not anything; therefore he saves himself by para-
doxes and turns intellectual somersaults. I once saw a
clown who amused the public by giving his cap various
strange and ridiculous shapes. Swidwicki does the same
with truth and logic. He is also a clown, but an embittered
and spiteful one. For this reason he always holds an
opinion opposite to that of the person with whom he is
speaking. This happens particularly when he is drunk,
and he gets drunk every night. Then to a patriot he will
say that fatherland is folly; in the presence of a believer
he will scoff at faith; to a conservative he will say that
only anarchy and revolution are worth anything; to the
socialist that the proletariat have 'snouts.' I have
heard how he thus expressed himself, and only for this
reason, that he, 'a superman/ might have something to
hit at when the notion seizes him. And thus it is always.
In discussion he shines with paradoxes, but sometimes it
chances that he says something striking because in all
criticism there is some justice. If you wish, I will arrange
such a spectacle, though for me he has a certain regard,
firstly, because he likes me, and again because I have
rendered him a few services in life. He promised to repay
me with black ingratitude, but in the meantime he does
not molest me with such energy as the others."

"And no one has yet broken his bones," observed
Ladislaus.

"He does not, in the least, retreat from that. He him-
self seeks trouble and there is not a year in which he does
not provoke some encounter."

14

210 WHIRLPOOLS.

"In the taverns?"

"Not only there. For belonging by name and family
connections to the so called higher walks of life, he has
many acquaintances there. Two years ago, indeed, the
artists gave him a good cudgelling in a tavern ; and, for
instance, Dolhanski (their dislike is mutual) shot him last
spring in a duel."

"Ah, that was when I heard his name ; now I remember."

"Perhaps you heard it before, for previously he had a
few affairs about women, as, in addition, he is a great
ladies' man. Finally he is^n unbridled rogue."

"As to women? or up to date?"

"He is not an old man. For some time he has been in
the state where he likes not ladies but their maids. Fancy
that not long ago he was so smitten with Miss Anney's
maid, — the same brunette who nursed you a little in
Jastrzeb, — that for a time he was continually dogging her
steps. He said that once she reviled him on the stairway
but this charmed him all the more."

Krzycki at the mention of the brunette who nursed him
in Jastrzeb became so confused that Gronski noticed it,
but not knowing what had passed between him and
Pauline, judged that the enamoured youth was offended
at the thought that such an individual as Swidwicki should
bustle about Miss Anney. So desiring to remove the
impression, he remarked:

"He says that he does not like to call upon those ladies,
but Pani Otocka does not welcome him at all with enthu-
siasm. She receives him merely out of respect for the
memory of her husband, who was his cousin and who, at
one time, was the conservator of his estate. After all, it is
probable that Swidwicki feels out of place among such
ladies."

"For microbes do not love a pure atmosphere."

"This much is certain: there is within him 'a moral

WHIRLPOOLS. 211

insanity/ I have become accustomed to him, but there
are certain things in him I cannot endure. You have no
idea of the contemptuous pity, the dislike, and the down-
right hatred with which he expresses himself about every-
thing which is Polish. And here I call a halt. Notwith-
standing our good relations, it almost came to a personal
encounter between us. For when he began to squirt his
bilious wit, a certain night, on all Poland, I said to him,
' That lion is not yet dead, and if he dies we know who alone
is capable of kicking at a dying lion/ He did not come
here for over a month, but was I not right ? I understand
how some great hero, who was repaid with ingratitude,
might speak with bitterness and venom of his country, but
Swidwicki is not a Miltiades or a Themistocles. And
such an outpouring of bile is directly pernicious, for he,
with his immensely flashing intellect, finds imitators and
creates a fashion, in consequence of which various persons
who have never done anything for Poland whet their
rusty wits upon this whetstone. I understand criticism,
though it be inexorable, but when it becomes a horse or
rather an ass from which one never dismounts, then it is
bad, for it takes away the desire to live from those who,
however, must live — and is vile, because it is spitting upon
society, is often sinful and, above all, unprecedentedly
unfortunate. Pessimism is not reason but a surrogate of
reason ; therefore, a cheat, such as the merchant who sells
chiccory for coffee. And such a surrogate you now meet
at every step in life and in literature."

Here Gronski became silent for a while and raised his
brows; and Krzycki said:

" From what you say, I see that Swidwicki is a big ape."

"At times, I think that he is a man incredibly wretched,

and for that reason I did not break off relations with him.

Besides he has for me a kind of attachment and this always

disarms one. Finally, I confess openly that I have the

212 WHIRLPOOLS.

purely Polish weakness, which indulges and forgives every-
thing in people who amuse us. He at times is very amusing,
especially when in a talking mood and when he is tipsy to
a certain degree."

"But finally, if he does not work but talks, from what
does he live?"

"He does not belong to the poor class. Once he was
very wealthy ; later he lost a greater portion of his fortune.
But in the end the late Otocki who was a most upright
man, and very practical besides, seeing what was taking
place, took the matter in his^wn hands, saved considerable
and changed the capital into an annuity. From this
Swidwicki receives a few thousand roubles annually, and
though he spends more than he ought to, he has something
to live upon. If he did not drink, he would have a suffi-
ciency: one passion he does not possess, namely, cards.
He says that for cards one must have the intellect of a
negro. From just that arose the encounter with Dolhanski.
But after all, they could not bear each other of old. Both,
as some one had said, are commercial travellers, dealing in
cynicism and competing with each other."

"Between the two, I, however, prefer Dolhanski," said
Krzycki.

"Because he amuses you, and Swidwicki has not thus
far had the opportunity. Eternally, it is the same Polish
weakness," answered Gronski.

After a while he added :

" In Dolhanski it is easier to see the bottom."

"And at that bottom, Panna Kajetana."

"At present it may, in truth, be so. Do you know that
Dolhanski brought those ladies with him on the train
which followed ours ? He told me also that they would at
once pay a visit to your mother and Pani Otocka."

"You will really call upon them to-day?"

"Yes, I call there daily. But as you are not permitted

WHIRLPOOLS. 213

to go out, I will invite the ladies to come here to-morrow
afternoon for tea."

" I thank you most heartily. I am not allowed to go out
but I could drive over."

"My servant told me that by order of the Party a strike
of the hackdrivers will begin to-morrow morning."

"Then how can those ladies ride over here to-morrow ? "

" In the private carriages. Unless they are forbidden to
ride in private. — "

"In that case Mother will be unable to see me."

"If it is quiet upon the streets, I will conduct her
here and escort her home. At times it is so that one day
the streets are turbulent as the sea, and the next, still and
deserted. In reality it is a relative security ; for whoever goes
out to-day in the city cannot feel certain that he will re-
turn. If not these then the others may stick in your side a
knife or a bayonet. But for women it is comparatively
safe."

"Under these circumstances, it would be better if my
mother did not visit me at all. I prefer to stay out those
three days which Szremski has imposed upon me, to
exposing her or any of those ladies to peril. Please post-
pone that 'five o'clock/"

"Perhaps it will be necessary to do that. But your
mother will not consent to not seeing you for three days.
Maybe some one else will importune me that I should not
defer the party."

Ladislaus' face glowed with deep and tender joy.

"Tell Mother that worry about her may harm me and
cause a fever, and tell that other one that I kiss the hem of
her dress."

"No. Such things you must say yourself."

"Oh, that I could not only tell her that as soon as pos-
sible, but do it. In the meantime I have a favor to ask of
you. Please send your servant to the city. If he is afraid

214 WHIRLPOOLS.

let him call a messenger. I would like to send that other
one a few flowers."

"Then send also some to your cousins, as otherwise
your mother will be prematurely surprised."

" Surely she would be astonished, for owing to her sickness
she saw us so little together that she could not take in the
situation. But soon I will confess all to her."

" I will only tell you what Pani Otocka said to me. She
said this: 'Let Ladislaus not speak with his mother
before his final interview with Aninka as otherwise he
would be unable to tell her everything/ "

Krzycki looked Gronski quickly in the eyes.

"And do you not know what the matter is?"

"You know that I have never been accused of a lack of
curiosity," answered Gronski, "but I judged that Pani
Otocka has sufficient reasons for remaining silent, and,
therefore, I did not question her about anything."

WHIRLPOOLS. 215

VII

GRONSKI actually did postpone his "five o'clock." Pani
Krzycki, however, visited her son, sometimes twice in a day,
claiming justly that less danger threatened an elderly
woman than any one else. Ladislaus passed long hours
with her, speaking about everything, but mostly about Miss
Anney. After Gronski's admonition, he did not, indeed,
confess to his mother his feelings for the young English-
woman and did not mention a word about his intentions,
but the fact, alone, that her name was continually on his
lips, that he ascribed his preservation to her alone, and
incessantly talked about the debt of gratitude which he
and his family owed to her, gave his mother much to
think about. The suspicion, which had flitted through
her mind on the eve of their departure from Jastrzeb,
returned and became more and more strongly fortified.
She did not, indeed, take it for granted that Ladislaus had
already taken an unbreakable resolution but came to the
conclusion that he was "smitten" and finally that the
light-haired maiden had made a greater impression upon
him than had his cousin Otocka. This filled her with
sorrow. During the journey and their few days' sojourn in
Warsaw she took a fancy to Miss Anney for her demeanor,
simplicity, and complaisance; but "Zosia Otocka" was the
little eye in her head. From the moment she met her in
Krynica, she never ceased dreaming of her for her son.
She judged that, in respect to nobility and delicacy of senti-
ment, no one could compare with her. She regarded her
as a chosen soul and the incarnation of womanly angelical-
ness. She had awaited her arrival with palpitation of the

216 WHIRLPOOLS.

heart, not supposing for a moment that Ladislaus would
not be captivated by her figure, her sweet countenance, that
maidenly charm, which, notwithstanding her widowhood,
she preserved in full bloom. And until the end Pani Krzy-
cki indulged in the hope that all would end according to
her desires, not taking into account the fleeting impression
in Jastrzeb ; only during the journey to Warsaw and in the
course of the last few days did she note that it might
happen otherwise, and that Ladislaus' eyes were enrapt-
ured by another flower. She preferred, however, not to
question him for she thought that it might yet pass
away.

He, in the meantime, chafed as if imprisoned, and would
undoubtedly have not observed those few days which
the doctor stipulated, were it not for the fact that he had
made a promise to his mother in Miss Anney's presence,
and feared to create an opinion in her eyes that he was
a man who did not keep his word. After the advice which
Pani Otocka, through the instrumentality of Gronski,
gave him that he should first speak with Miss Anney, it
became more unendurable for him to sit in the house.
From morning till night he racked his brain as to what
that could be and could arrive at no satisfactory solution.
The day following the conversation with Gronski, he de-
cided to ask Pani Otocka about it by letter and sat down
with great ardor to write. But after the first page he was
encompassed by doubt. It seemed to him that he could
not express that which he wished. He understood that,
under the address of Pani Otocka, he was really writing to
Miss Anney. So he yearned to make it a masterpiece, and
in the meantime came to the conclusion that it was some-
thing so bungling and maladroit that it was impossible to
forward it. Finally he lost all faith in his stylistic accom-
plishments, and this spoilt his humor so far that he again
began to ask himself in his soul whether such "an ass,"

WHIRLPOOLS. 217

who is unable .to indite three words, has the right to aspire
to such an extraordinary and in every respect perfect
being as "She." Gronski, however, comforted him with
the explanation that the letter was not a success because
from the beginning the project was baffling and under
such circumstances no one could succeed. After which
he also called his attention to another circumstance,
namely, that from Pani Otocka's words and her advice
that an interview with Miss Anney should precede any talk
with his mother could be drawn the inference that there
everything was prepared for an explosion, and all means
preventative of a heart-break had been provided. Mirth
immediately returned to Ladislaus and he began to laugh
like a child and afterwards again sent to the three ladies
bouquets of the most magnificent roses which Warsaw
could provide.

The day concluded yet more propitiously, for proofs
of appreciation arrived. They were brought to Gronski's
house by Panna Pauly in the form of a small and perfumed
note, on which was written by the hand of the light-haired
divinity the following words: "We thank you for the
beautiful roses and hope for an early meeting." Further
came the signatures of Agnes Anney, Zosia Otocka, and
Marynia Zbyltowska. Krzycki pronounced the letter a
masterpiece of simplicity and eloquence. He certainly
would have kissed each letter of it separately, were it not
for the fact that before him stood Panna Pauly, with
clouded face, and eyes firmly fixed upon him — uneasy
and already full of suspicious jealousy, though obviously
not knowing against which one of the three ladies it was
to be directed. Krzycki, not concealing the joy which
the letter gave him, turned to her and said :

"What is new, little Miss? Are the ladies well?"
"Yes. My mistress instructed me to inquire about
your health."

218 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Kindly thank her. It is excellent, and if I am not
shot again, I will not die from the first shooting."

And she, not taking her bottomless eyes off him, replied :

" God be praised."

"But that you, little Miss, should not fear to go out in
such turbulent times!"

"The lackey was afraid, but I do not fear anything and
wanted to see for myself how you were."

"There is a daring body for me ! I am grateful to you,
little Miss. Since this stupid strike of hackmen ended
to-day, it is better for your to return by hack. Please ac-
cept this — for — "

While saying this, he began to search for his purse,
and taking a five-rouble gold piece, he offered it to her. At
the same time he felt that he was doing something im-
proper, and even terrible. It was so disagreeable to him
that he became confused and reddened, but it seemed to
him that any other method of showing his gratitude would
be food for the feeling which he perceived in her and
which he wished to dispel, because of some strange kind
of fear intensified even by the fact that the girl was Miss
Anney's maid.

Therefore he began to repeat with a forced and slightly
silly smile:

"Please, Panna Pauly, take it, please — "

But she withdrew her hand and her face darkened in a
moment.

"I thank you," she said. "I did not come for that."

And she turned towards the door. To the dissatis-
faction with himself which Krzycki felt was joined pity
for her. Therefore he followed her a few steps.

"Let not the little lady be offended," he said; "here,
of course, was no other thought than of her safety. It
was only about this that I was concerned. Shall the
servant summon a carriage? — "

WHIRLPOOLS. 219

But she did not answer and left the house. Krzycki,
walking to the window, gazed for some time at her grace-
ful form, disappearing in the depths of the street; and
suddenly again appeared before his eyes the vision of the
white statue in azure drops of water. There was, however,
something exasperating in her; and unwillingly there oc-
curred to the frail young gentleman the thought that if
she were not Miss Anney's maid, and if he had known her
formerly, that as two and two are four he would have suc-
cumbed to temptation.

But at present another, greater power had snatched
away his thoughts and heart. After a while he returned
to the letter and began to read it anew: "We thank you
for the beautiful roses and hope for an early meeting."
And so they want to see him over there. The day after
to-morrow he will not be sitting here, bound by the chains
of his own words, but will go there and gaze in those
wonderful eyes, looking with a heavenly stream, and will
so press his lips to her beloved hands that in one kiss he
will tell everything which he has in his heart. Words
will be later only an echo. And imagination bore him
like an unmanageable horse. Perhaps that idolized maid
may at once fall into his arms; perhaps she may close
those wonderful eyes and offer her lips to him. At this
thought a thrill passed through Krzycki from his feet to
his head and it seemed to him that all the love, all the im-
pulses, and all the desires which ever existed and exist in
the world at present were hoarded in him alone.

220 WHIRLPOOLS.

VIII

GRONSKI spent the entire next day in the city; at night
he was at Pani Otocka's, so that he did not return home
until near midnight. Krzycki was not yet asleep and as
his mother, on account of* the disturbances on the streets
could not visit him that day, he awaited with impatience
Gronski's return, and immediately began to question him
about the news in the city and of the ladies.

"The news in the city is bad," answered Gronski;
"about noon I heard the firing of musketry in the factory
district. Before calling upon Pani Otocka, I was at a
meeting in the Philharmonic at which representatives of
some of the warring factions met, and do you know what
kind of an impression I took away with me? Why, that,
unfortunately, Swidwicki in certain respects was right and
that we have come to the pass where only a civil war can
clear the atmosphere. In this would be the greater tragedy
for it would, at the same time, be the final extinction. But
of this later. I have a head so tired and nerves so shattered
that to-day I cannot think of such things."

Here he rang for the servant, and notwithstanding the
late hour directed him to prepare tea. Then he con-
tinued :

"But from Pani Otocka I bring news. You would not
believe your ears when I tell you what happened. Why
this afternoon, before my arrival, Laskowicz called on
those ladies."

Krzycki dropped from his hand the cigar which he was
smoking.

WHIRLPOOL. 221

"Laskowicz?" he asked.

"Yes."

"But the police are looking for him."

"They are looking for him in the country and not in
Warsaw. The police, like all the rest, have lost their
heads. After all, it is easier to hide in a large city. But,
really, if he himself flew into their hands, they might
clutch him."

"But what did he want from Pani Otocka?"

"According to my conjectures, he wanted to see Mary-
nia, but came ostensibly for a contribution for revolution-
ary purposes. After all, they are now continually soliciting
contributions."

"And did the ladies give?"

"No. They told him that they would not give any-
thing for the revolution, and for the hungry and those de-
prived of employment they had already sent as much as
they could to a newspaper office. In fact, this was the
truth. Pani Otocka donated a considerable amount, and
Miss Anney also. Laskowicz attempted to explain to
them that a refusal would expose the refractory to dangers
and for that reason he came to them personally to shield
them from it. He was very much displeased and incensed,
particularly as he saw only Pani Zosia and Miss Anney,
for Marynia did not appear. He announced however that
he would come again."

"Let him try !" cried Ladislaus, clenching his fists.

But afterwards he asked with surprise:

"How did he get in there, and why did they receive
him?"

"The male servants throughout the whole city are
terror-stricken and the words 'From the Party* everywhere
open the doors like the best pick-lock. But Laskowicz
did not have to use even these means, as it happened that
Pani Otocka's footman was in the cellar and he was ad-

222 WHIRLPOOLS.

mitted by Miss Armey's maid, who knew him from Jas-
trzeb and thought that he came as a good acquaintance."

"In any case she acquitted herself foolishly."

"My dear sir, what could she know about him? Of
course, no one told her what he was and she saw him
among us ; she saw how he rode away to the city with me
and that he was the tutor of the younger members of
your family. That he participated in the attack upon you,
also, could not have occurred to her mind, for from our
side that is only a supposition which we did not confide
to the ladies, in order not to^lisquiet them, and much less to
her."

"Perhaps she herself is a socialist."

" I doubt it, for after the attempt, hearing that you were
wounded, it is said she wailed so bitterly that she could be
heard all over Jastrzeb; she invoked all the punishments
of hades upon your would-be assassins. Miss Anney was
much affected by that. I remember also that when it was
rumored that the Rzeslew people did it, she vowed to
set fire to Rzeslewo. Ah, you always have luck — "

"I do not care for such luck. But as to Laskowicz she,
of course, saw during the search at Jastrzeb that they
were seeking him."

"Well, what of it? Were you not persecuted for
establishing a school? In this country all sympathy is
always on the side of the fugitive. Imagine for yourself
that when Miss Anney forbade her to admit Laskowicz
any more, she became indignant. Evidently it seemed to
her that Miss Anney did that from fear of the police."

"Miss Anney gave indisputable proofs that she does
not fear anything."

"So I also do not suspect her of fear, nor Pani Otocka.
But, instead, I confess to you what I fear. That mad-
man, if he does not personally appear there, will hover
about them, and what is more will write letters ; all letters

WHIRLPOOLS. 223

now travel undoubtedly through the black cabinets. If I
knew where I could find him, I would warn him above
all things not to dare to write any more."

"I will warn him of that and something else, if I can
only meet him."

"Since he visited the ladies, he may come to see me.
We had, while riding together from Jastrzeb, a discussion
which he has not forgiven me."

"If he comes here, do you give me carte blanche?"

" I would not think of it. Previously I had propounded
to you the question whether if, as a result of a personal en-
counter with you, he was arrested you could take upon
your soul his destruction, and you answered 'No/ Now
I will ask you differently : If Laskowicz, tracked and pur-
sued as a wild animal, hid in your house, would you not
endeavor to hide him or assist him in escaping?"

To this Krzycki replied in anger, but without hesitation :

"I would help him — the dog's blood."

"Ah, you see!" observed Gronski. "You curse, but
admit. If they come to me for a contribution — it is all the
same whether with or without Laskowicz — I will tell
them that I will give for people destitute of bread but will
not give for bombs, dynamite, and strike propaganda. I
will tell them more : that in collecting contributions for a
revolution from people who do not want to give and who
give only from fear, they degrade their own citizens."

"Perhaps that is of import to them. The more the
higher strata become cowardly, the easier it will be for
them."

"That may be, but in such case they are the full breth-
ren of all those who purposely and of old have debased
the community."

And Krzycki pondered and said:

"With us these things are often done — from above and
from below."

224 WHIRLPOOLS.

Gronski glanced at him with a certain surprise as if he
did not expect from his lips such a remark.

"You are right," he declared; "from above, a continual
lowering of great ideals, from below, because at present
they are being directly trampled upon."

"Bah ! There remain yet the solid multitude of country
peasantry."

"Again you are right," replied Gronski. "Formerly
Dabrowski's March1 was the watchword for a hundred
thousand, to-day it is the watchword for ten millions.
Blessed be folk-lore!" *

They remained silent. Gronski for a time walked
about the room, taking, according to his custom, the
eyeglasses off his nose and replacing them. After which,
he said:

"Do you know what surprises me? This: that in such
times and under such conditions, people can think of their
private happiness and their private affairs. But never-
theless such is the law of life, which no power can sup-
press."

"Have you me in mind?"

"In theory, I am verifying a fact which in practice even
you confirm. For lo, at this moment it is as if an earth-
quake took place; the buildings tumble, people perish,
subterranean fires burst forth and you and Miss Anney
love each other and think of founding a new nest."

"How did you say it?" Krzycki asked with radiant
countenance, " ' you love each other/ "

"I said 'you love each other/ for such is the case. You,
after all, are more in love than she."

"Certainly," answered Ladislaus, "there is nothing
strange in that; but what inference do you draw?"

"This, which you have not heretofore either directly
or indirectly asked and have not even tried to ascertain,
i " Poland is not yet lost."

WHIRLPOOLS. 225

namely, how much can Miss Anney bring to you. In a
rural citizen this is proof that the thermometer shows the
highest temperature of love."

" I give you my word, I would take her in a single dress,"
answered Krzycki.

"But you would rather she had something?"

"I will answer sincerely that I would. There are many
neighbors poorer than I am and a piece of bread will
never be lacking to us. But at Jastrzeb there are three of
us — counting Mother, four. I am heir of one-fourth and
the unsalaried manager of the three-fourths belonging to my
family and Mother. I would wish that Jastrzeb would
solely belong to myself and my wife, and in succession to
my children, if we have any."

"As to that, I have no doubt; but as to a dowry, I am
not tormented by unnecessary fears," said Gronski.
"Miss Anney lives, travels, dresses, and resides in com-
fort, but she is not a person who would desire to create
false impressions. I assume that she does not possess
millions, but her fortune, particularly in comparison to
our condition, may appear even more considerable than
we might have thought."

"Let her have it or not have it," exclaimed Krzycki, "if
she only will give herself to me. Whoever possesses that
jewel can be crowned with it like a king."

"I foresee a coronation soon," replied Gronski, laughing.

226 WHIRLPOOLS.

IX

ON account of Marynia's birthday, Miss Anney with her
maid went to buy flowers. The day before, Gronski told
her that he saw in one of tjje stores Italian rosy lilies, such
as are sold in whole bundles in the vicinity of Lucca and
Pisa, but which are cultivated but little in the conserva-
tories of Warsaw and seldom imported into the country.
As Marynia had inquired about them with great curiosity,
Miss Anney decided to purchase for her all that could be
found in the store. The previous evening she bantered
Gronski, telling him that she would forestall him in the
purchase, for he, as a known sleepy-head, would be un-
able to leave his home early enough. Determined to play
a joke upon him, she left the house at eight in the morning,
so as to be present at the opening of the store. She had,
besides, a letter prepared, with the words "They are al-
ready bought," which she intended to send to Gronski by
Pauly, and exulted at the thought that Gronski would
receive it at his morning coffee.

In fact everything went according to her plans, for she
was the first buyer at the store. She was disappointed
only in this: that there were too few lilies. There was
only one flower-pot, containing about a dozen stalks with
flowers. So the decoration of Marynia's whole room with
them was out of the question. But for just this reason
Miss Anney eagerly bought the one sample and, paying
the price asked for it, directed that it be sent to the Otocka
residence. She was annoyed, however, when informed in
the store that the gardener delivering flowers could not

WHIRLPOOLS. 227

come until noon-time, for she desired that Marynia
should have them before she rose from bed.

"In that case," she said, turning to Pauly, " call a hack
and we will take the flower-pot with us."

But Pauly, who, though she behaved quite indifferently
and even refractorily in respect to her mistress and also
to Pani Otocka, had a sort of exceptional adoration,
bordering on sympathy, for Marynia, replied:

"Let Madame permit me to carry these flowers alone.
In the hack they will be shaken up and may fall off."

"But you are to go with the letter to Pan Gronski and,
besides, you will tire yourself with the flower-pot."

" Pan Gronski's residence is on the way ; and what if I
do tire myself a little for the golden little lady. May I
not do that much for her?"

Miss Anney understood that a refusal would cause her
great vexation, therefore she said:

"Very well. You are an honest soul. But if it should
be too heavy for you, take a hack. I will go to church."

And she went to church to pray for Ladislaus, who was
that day to leave the house for the first time and pass the
evening at Pani Otocka's, owing to Marynia' s birthday.
She expected that the following day he would visit
her and she wanted also to commit that day to divine
protection.

Pauline, taking the lilies, went in an opposite direc-
tion towards Gronski's residence. After a few score of
steps the flower-pot filled with earth began to grow
heavy; so, shifting it from one arm to the other, she
thought :

"If it was for any one else, I would throw everything
upon the ground, but she is such a bird that it is hard not
to love her — I would carry for her even two such flower-
pots and I would not do her any harm. — Even in case —
he loved her alone,"

228 WHIRLPOOLS.

And at this gloomy thought her countenance darkened
yet more. In her heart, capable only of extreme feelings,
began a struggle between her strange adoration for
Marynia and her blind and passionate love for Krzycki;
it was accompanied by the terrible and hopeless con-
sciousness that under no circumstance could he be hers,
as he was a young lord, heir, almost prince royal, and she
a simple girl for sewing, setting the parlor in order, and
household work. To this was added immediately a feeling
of a prodigious wrong. Why, she might have been born
also a "little lady" and not brought up in an orphan
asylum, under the care of sisters of charity, but in a rich
lordly home. Why was it not so, instead of the vile work of
the servant's station awaiting her till death ?

And here it occurred to her mind that there is now,
however, a kind of people, a kind of "party," which wants
to take away property from the rich, distribute it among
the poor, level all people, so that there will be no rich men
and paupers, no servants and lords, no wrong of any kind
in the world ; and in the place thereof, all ranks will be one
and the same, and liberty will be identical. She had heard
of this from the servants in the house, from the craftsmen,
from the salesmen in the stores to which she went to make
purchases, and also through overhearing the conversations
of the " gentility." It surprised her that these people were
called socialists, for heretofore a "socialist" and a madman
roaming over the streets with knife in hand meant to her
one and the same thing. For a time after the attack upon
Krzycki, when the report was spread that the socialists
did it, she even felt for them such furious and blind hatred
that she was willing to poison them or bake them upon live
fires. Later, when the servants in Jastrzeb began to repeat
that the young heir was waylaid not by them, but by
people of Rzeslewo, this hatred became extinguished. But
subsequently, when the girl learned more accurately what

WHIRLPOOLS. 229

the socialists aimed at and who they were, she was but
little interested in them. She partly regarded their ideas
as foolish and partly thought of other things more personal,
and finally, she distinguished in Poland only "her own"
and "not her own," loving, not knowing why, the first,
and hating indiscriminately all the others. It was not
until the last few days that it began to dawn in her head
that among her own there existed terrible and painful dif-
ferences ; that for some there was wealth, for others poverty ;
that for a few there was enjoyment and for others toil ; for
some, laughter, for others, tears; for some, happiness, for
others, woe and injury.

This became clear to her, particularly at that moment
when with greater suffering than ever before she became
aware that this young gentleman, to whom her soul and
body were urged, was simply an inaccessible star, on which
she was barely permitted to gaze. And although nothing
had happened that day which particularly irritated her and
nothing had altered, she was possessed by a despair such as
she never felt before.

But the course of her gloomy meditations was finally
interrupted by an external incident. Notwithstanding
the early hour, she observed on the corner of the precinct
a large crowd of people, agitated by some uneasiness.
Their faces were turned towards the depth of a cross
street, as if something unusual was taking place there.
Some rushed forward while others retreated with evident
fear. Some, arguing heatedly and pointing at something
with their hands, looked upwards to the roofs of the houses.
From all directions flocked new crowds of workingmen and
striplings. Among the hack-drivers standing on the corner
an unusual commotion prevailed: the drivers, in groups
of varying numbers, wheeled their horses about in different
directions as though they wished to blockade the street.
Suddenly shrill cries resounded and then shots. In one

230 WHIRLPOOLS.

moment an indescribable confusion arose. The throng
swung to and fro and began to scamper; the cries
sounded shriller and shriller each moment. It was evi-
dent that they were pursuing somebody. The girl, with
her lilies, stood as if thunderstruck, not knowing what
to do. Then, suddenly from amidst the hacks, a man
dashed out, bent forward with lowered head, and at full
speed ran towards her. On the way he flung away his
cap and snatched a hat from the head of a stripling who,
understanding the situation in the twinkle of an eye,
did not even quiver. The hack-drivers began yet more
zealously to block the street, evidently with a view to make
the pursuit more difficult. But right behind them again
rattled the revolver shots, and amidst the general cries and
tumult already could be heard the shrill sounds of the
police whistles and the hoarse, bellowing shouts of "Catch
him! catch himi" A blind, excessive fright now seized
Pauly, and she began to run, squeezing unconsciously to
her bosom the flower-pot with the lilies, as if she wanted
to save her own child.

But she had barely run a dozen or more steps when a
panting, low voice began to cry close behind her:

"Lady, give me the flowers! For the mercy of God,
lady, give me the flowers ! Save !"

The girl turned about suddenly with consternation,
and indescribable amazement was reflected in her eyes,
for she recognized Laskowicz.

He, having violently wrested from her the flower-pot,
to which, not knowing what she was doing, she clung with
all her strength, whispered further:

"Perhaps they will not recognize me. I will tell them
that I am a gardener. Save me, little lady I Perhaps they
will not recognize. I am out of breath 1"

She wanted to run farther but he restrained her.

In the meantime, from among the chaos of hacks, a

WHIRLPOOLS. 231

dozen or more policemen and civil agents emerged. The
majority of the mob moved at a running pace in a direc-
tion opposite to the one in which Laskowicz and the girl
were going, and undoubtedly they intentionally moved
that way in order to deceive the pursuers. To better
hoodwink the police, cries of "Catch him!" resounded
among the laborers. Some workingman began to whistle
shrilly on his fingers, imitating the sound of a police
whistle. Accordingly the policemen and agents plunged
headlong after the dense mob. At the intersection of the
streets only a few stood still, and these, after a moment's
irresolution, set off in the other direction, but they ran at
full speed by the girl and the man with the light hat, carry-
ing flowers. Rushing ahead they seized a few working-
men, but other workingmen rescued them in a moment.
Pauly and Laskowicz walked farther.

"They missed me," said the student. "Here no one
would betray. They missed ! Those flowers and another's
hat fooled them. I thank you, little lady; I thank you
from my whole soul, and until my death I will never be
able to sufficiently repay you."

But she, not having yet entirely recovered from her
amazement, began to ask:

"What happened? Where did you come from?"

"From the roof; they pounced upon us in a printing
plant. The others will get a year or two and nothing more
will happen to them — but for me, there would be the
halter."

"How did you manage to escape?"

"When we got on the roof, I slid down the gutter-pipe.
I might have broken my neck. It was not until I reached
the street that they observed me. They fired shots at me,
but luckily I was not hit, for the blood would have be-
trayed me. Whoever was alive helped me, and I was
hidden by the hacks. They did not see how I changed

232 WHIRLPOOLS.

a cap for a hat. But if it was not for my female associate
it would have been all over with me."

"What female associate?"

"I speak of you, little lady, thus. Amongst us such is
the custom."

"Then do not call me that, for I am no female associate."

"That is a pity. But this is not the time to speak of
that. Once more I thank you for the rescue, though it is
for a short time."

"Why for a short time?;'

"Because I do not know what to do with myself, where
to go, and where to hide. Every night I sleep in a different
place but they are seeking for me everywhere."

"That is true. They were searching for you in Jas-
trzeb. Do you know that there was a police-search there ? "

"Was there?"

"Yes. Gendarmes, police, and soldiers came. They
almost put everybody under arrest."

"Oh, they would not arrest them — "

The clatter of horses' hoofs and the rattle of the horse-
shoes over the stony pavements interrupted for a while
their conversation. From a side street ahead rode out a
Cossack patrol, consisting of several scores of men. They
rode slowly, with carabines resting upon their thighs and
looked about cautiously. At the sight of them, Pauly
became somewhat pale, while Laskowicz began to whisper :

"That is nothing. They see that I am carrying flowers
from the store. They will take me for a gardener and will
ride by."

In fact they did pass by.

"They are now arresting every moment people on the
streets in whole crowds," said Laskowicz. "To some one
else that would be a small matter ; but if I once fall into
their clutches, I will never be able to get out again."

"Well, what do you intend to do?"

WHIRLPOOLS. 233

"Carry these flowers for you, little lady."

" And after that?"

"I do not know."

" Of course you must have some acquaintances who will
hide you."

" I have, I have ! But the police have their eyes upon all
my acquaintances. Every night there is a search. For the
last two nights I slept in a printing establishment, but to-
day they discovered the printing press."

A moment of silence followed.

After which Laskowicz again spoke in a gloomy voice:

"There is now no help for me. I will deliver these
flowers and go wherever my eyes will take me."

But in the heart of the girl suddenly there awoke a
great pity for him. Before that she was indifferent to him.
At present she only saw in him a Polish student hunted,
like a mad dog, by people whom she of old despised.

Therefore on her energetic and obstinate countenance,
inflexible determination was depicted.

"Come what may, I will not desert you," she said, knit-
ting her dark brows.

Laskowicz was suddenly seized with a desire to kiss
her hand and would have done so if they were not on the
street. He was moved not only by the hope of escape, but
also by the fact that this girl, who hardly knew him, who
did not belong to his camp, was ready to expose herself to
the greatest dangers in order to come to his aid.

"What can the little lady do? Where will she hide
me?" he asked quietly.

But she walked on with brows knitted by the strain of
continuous thinking, and finally said :

"I know. Let us go."

He shifted the flower-pot to the left hand. "I must tell
you," he said with lowered voice, "that the least punish-
ment for concealing me is Siberia. I must tell you that !

234 WHIRLPOOLS.

And I might cause your destruction, but in the first
moments — the little lady understands — the instinct of
preservation — there was no time for reflection."

The little lady did not very well understand what the
instinct of preservation was, but instead understood some-
thing else. This was that if she brought him, as she in-
tended, to Gronski' s, she would expose to danger not only
Gronski but also Krzycki.

And under the influence of this thought she stood as if
stupefied.

"In such a case, I do no^know what I can do," she said.

" Ah, you see, little lady," answered the student, as if in
sorrow, while she, on her part, again began to rack her
brains. It never occurred to her to conduct Laskowicz
to Miss Anney's or Pani Otocka's. She felt that here
masculine help was necessary and that it was imperative
to find some one who would not fear and for whom she,
herself, did not care. Therefore she mentally reviewed
the whole array of Miss Anney's and Pani Otocka's ac-
quaintances.— Pan Dolhanski? No! — He might be
afraid or else send them to the devil and sneer at them.
Dr. Szremski? He had probably left the city. Ah, were
it not for this "young lord" she would conduct this
poor fellow to Pan Gronski, for even if he did not receive
him, at the worst he would give good advice, or would
direct them to somebody. And suddenly it came to her
mind that if Siberia threatened the person who concealed
Laskowicz, Pan Gronski would not direct them to any-
body ; but if he could, he would direct them to only one
man, whom she also knew. And on this thought, she dusted
her dress with her hands and, turning to Laskowicz, said :

" I know now I Let us try."

After which, standing for a while, she continued :

"Let us enter this house, here, at once. You will wait
with the flowers in the hallway and I will deliver the letter

WHIRLPOOLS. 235

upstairs and return. Do not fear anything, for the door-
keeper here knows me and he is a good man. After that I
may lead you somewhere."

Saying this, she entered the gate and, leaving Laskowicz
below, rang, after a moment, Gronski' s bell.

Gronski, rising that day earlier than usual, was already
dressed and sat with Krzycki having tea. When Pauly
handed him the letter, he read it and, laughing, showed
it to Ladislaus ; after which he rose and went to his writ-
ing desk to write an answer. During this time Ladislaus
began to question her about the health of his mother and
the younger ladies.

"I thank you, the ladies are well, but my lady has
already gone down town."

"So early? And is not your lady afraid to go alone
about the city?"

"My lady went with me and bought flowers for Panna
Marynia and after that she went to church."

"To what church did she go?"

"I do not know."

Panna Pauly knew well, but she was hurt by his asking
her about her mistress ; while he, conjecturing this, ceased
to question her further, for he had previously resolved to
converse with her as little as possible.

So, silence — a little embarrassing — ensued between
them, and continued until Gronski returned with the letter.

"Here is the answer," he said; "let the little lady bow
for us to the ladies and say that to-day we both will be
there, for Pan Krzycki' s imprisonment is now ended."

"I thank you," replied Pauly, "but I have yet a
favor, — I would like to learn the address of Pan
Swidwicki?"

Gronski looked at her with astonishment.

"Did the ladies request you to ask?"

"No — I just wanted to know — "

236 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Panna Pauly," said Gronski, "Pan Swidwicki lives at
No. 5 Oboznej, but it is not very safe for young girls to
go to him."

She colored to the ears from fear that the "young
lord" might think something bad about her.

And she hesitated for a while whether she should tell
that Laskowicz was in the hallway and that it was neces-
sary to hide him, as otherwise destruction awaited him.
But again she recollected that Laskowicz had been sought
in Jastrzeb and that Krzycki, on account of that had been
almost arrested. A fear possessed her that perhaps Gronski
himself might want to hide the student and in such case
would jeopardize the young lord. She looked once or
twice at the shapely form of Krzycki and decided to re-
main silent.

But Gronski spoke further:

"I do not advise you to go to him. I do not advise it.
It is said that you once gave him a tongue-lashing."

And she, raising her head, answered at once haughtily
and indignantly:

"Then I will give him a tongue-lashing a second time;
but I have some business with him."

And bowing, she left. Gronski shrugged his shoulders
and said:

"I cannot understand what she is concerned about.
There is something strange in that girl, and I tell you that
your future lady gives evidence of holy patience, that she
has not dismissed her before this. She always says that
she is a violent character but has a golden heart, and that
may be possible. I know, however, from Pani Otocka
that the golden heart enacts for her such scenes as no one
else would tolerate."

WHIRLPOOLS. 237

X

IN the evening of Marynia's birthday, Ladislaus and Miss
Anney for a time found themselves at some distance from
the rest of the company, at a cottage piano, decorated with
flowers. His eyes shone with joy and happiness. He felt
fortunate that his imprisonment had ended and that he
could again gaze upon this, his lady, whom he loved with
the whole strength of a young heart.

"I know," he told her, "that you were this morning in
the city and bought flowers. I learned this from your
maid, who brought the letter to Pan Gronski. Afterwards
you went to church. I asked her to which one, as I wanted
to go there, but the maid did not know."

"That is strange, for she knows that I always go to the
Holy Cross, and at times I even take her with me. I am
there, daily, at the morning mass."

"She told me that she did not know," answered Ladis-
laus. "Will you be there to-morrow?"

"Yes; unless the weather should be very inclement."

Ladislaus lowered his voice :

"I ask because I have a great and heartfelt prayer.
Permit me to come there at the same hour and before the
same altar."

Blushes suffused Miss Anney's countenance and her
breast began to move more quickly. She inclined her head
somewhat and placing the edge of the fan to her lips
answered in a low voice:

"I have not the right to forbid nor to permit. The
church is open to all the pious."

"Yes. But I want to kneel a while beside you —

238 WHIRLPOOLS.

together, and not with customary humility; but for a
special purpose. As to my piety, I will candidly state that
I believe in God, ah I especially now — I believe in God
and in His goodness ; but heretofore I have not been very
pious — just like all others. When, however, a whole
life is concerned, then even a man, totally unbelieving, is
ready to kneel and pray. To kneel beside you, that alone
is an immense boon, for it is as if one had beside him an
angel. And I want to beg for something else: and that
is that we should together, at the same time, say 'Under
Thy protection we flee, Hpjy Mother of God.' "

Ladislaus became pale from emotion and on his fore-
head beads of perspiration appeared. For a time he re-
mained silent, to permit the too violent beating of his
heart to subside. After which he again spoke :

"We flee* — that will mean us both. Nothing more,
dear, dearest lady, nothing more. After that I will go,
and in the afternoon, if you permit, I will come to your
residence and will tell you everything which has collected
within me from the time I first saw you in Jastrzeb. In
your hands, lady, lies my fate, but I must, I must divulge
it all; otherwise my bosom will burst. But if you, lady,
will agree to a joint prayer of 'Under Thy protection/
before that time, then I shall be so happy that I do not
know how I will survive until to-morrow."

And she looked at him guilelessly and straight in his
eyes with the celestial streak of the hazy pupils of her
eyes and answered:

"Come to church to-morrow."

And Ladislaus whispered:

"And not to be able to fall at your feet at this moment —
not to be able to fall at your feet !"

But Miss Anney tapped lightly, as if reluctantly, his
hand, resting on the piano with her own, which was in-
cased in a white glove, and walked away, for, not forgetting

WHIRLPOOLS. 239

herself to the same extent as Ladislaus, she noticed that
they were observed. Owing to Marynia's birthday there
assembled that evening at Pani Otocka' s quite a consider-
able gathering of acquaintances. The notary, Dzwon-
kowski, appeared; also, an old neighbor from the vi-
cinity of Zalesin ; and besides these Dolhanski and both
Wlocek ladies, who after a previous exchange of visits,
were invited by Pani Otocka. Gronski actually appeared
the earliest and well nigh played the r6le of host, in which
part he was assisted by the former teacher of Marynia, the
violinist Bochener, not less in love with her, and finally
Swidwicki, who on that day was exceptionally sober. Pani
Otocka was occupied with the Wlocek ladies ; Gronski con-
versed with Swidwicki in so far as he did not direct his
eyes after Marynia, who, in her white dress, adorned with
violets, slender, almost lithesome, actually looked like an
alabaster statuette. But she, and with her Pani Krzycki,
began to look with especial attention at Ladislaus and Miss
Anney. The little ears of Marynia reddened from curios-
ity, while on Pani Krzycki's countenance there appeared
uneasiness, and, as if it were, a shadow of dissatisfaction.

But Miss Anney, breaking off her conversation with
Ladislaus, approached directly towards his mother and
sat down in a chair beside her.

"Pan Ladislaus is so happy," she said, "that his con-
finement is ended."

"I see," answered Pani Krzycki, "but I fear that con-
versation fatigues him yet. What did he say to you with
such animation?"

For a moment, Miss Anney inclined her head and be-
gan to smooth out with her fingers the folds of her bright
dress as if troubled, but later, having evidently formed a
sudden resolution, she raised her frank eyes straight at
Pani Krzycki, just as she had previously at Ladislaus, and
replied :

240 WHIRLPOOLS.

"He said such pleasant and loving things; that he
wants to go to church to-morrow and say 'Under Thy
protection* — together with me — "

In her eyes there were no interrogatories, nor uneasi-
ness, nor challenge, but great goodness and truth.

Pani Krzycki, on the other hand, was put out of counte-
nance by the candor of the reply, so that at first she was
silent. It seemed to her that what heretofore was a doubt-
ful, blurred, and indistinct supposition, lightened up and
plainly emerged upon the surface, but she tried to dis-
believe it; so, after a certajn hesitation, she replied:

"Laudie otherwise would be ungrateful. He owes you
so much — and I also."

Miss Anney understood perfectly that Pani Krzycki
wanted to give her to understand that the motive of Ladis-
laus' words was only gratitude, but she had no time to
reply to the remark, as at that time across the arm of her
chair the slender form of Marynia was leaning :

"Aninka, may I trouble you to step over here for a
moment?"

"Certainly," answered Miss Anney.

And rising, she left. Pani Krzycki eyed her and sighed.
There was in that beautiful form so much youth, health,
radiance, so many golden tresses, glances, so much bloom,
warmth, and womanly fascination, that an older and
experienced woman, like Pani Krzycki, was forced to
admit in her soul that it would have been rather incom-
prehensible if Ladislaus had remained indifferent to all
those charms.

And sighing for the second time, she thought:

"Why did Zosia bring her to Jastrzeb?"

And she began to seek with her eyes Pani Otocka, who
at that moment was approaching the door to greet an
elderly gentleman with a white leonine mane and the same
kind of white beard who, evidently being almost blind,

WHIRLPOOLS. 241

stood on the threshold and gazed over the salon through
his gold-rimmed spectacles.

Finally espying Pani Otocka, he seized both her hands
and commenced to kiss them with great ardor, while she
greeted him with that shy grace, peculiarly her own,
which made her resemble a young village maid.

"How sweet she is and how lovable!" Pani Krzycki
said to herself.

But her further meditations and regrets were inter-
rupted by Swidwicki, who, taking the chair vacated by
Miss Anney, said:

"But your son, benefactress, is a genuine Uhlan from
under Somo-Sierra. What a race ! what a type ! I, who
everywhere fancy beauty as a setter does partridges, ob-
served this at once to Gronski. Only put a sabre in his
hand and place him on horseback. Or at some exhibition !
plainly on exhibition, as a notable specimen of the race.
Ah, what blood with milk I The women must rave over
him 1"

Pani Krzycki, notwithstanding her internal worries,
was pleased to hear these words, for Ladislaus' shapeli-
ness was from his childhood days a source of pride and
joy for her. But in reality, she did not deem it proper to
admit this before Swidwicki.

" I do not attach any importance to that," she answered,
" and I thank God that it is not the only thing that can be
said of my son."

And Swidwicki snapped his fingers and said :

"You do attach importance to it, madame, you do, and
so do I, and those ladies only pretend that they do not —
that young Englishwoman as well as even that translucent
little porcelain maid; though apparently she thinks of
nought but music. . . . Perhaps the least of all Pani
Zosia, but only because from a certain time she too sed-
ulously reads Plato."

242 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Zosia — Plato!" exclaimed Pani Krzycki.

"I suspect so, and even am certain for otherwise she
would not be so Platonic."

"Why, she is not versed in Greek."

"But Gronski is, and he can translate for her."

Pani Krzycki gazed with astonishment at Swidwicki
and broke off the conversation. Becoming acquainted
with him only that evening and having no idea that he
was a man who, for a quip, for a wretched play on words
and from habit, was ready always and everywhere to talk
stuff and nonsense in th^ most reckless manner, she
^•ouW not understand why he said that to her. Neverthe-
less his words were for her, as it were, a ray illuminating
things which heretofore she had not observed. She found
new proofs that her heartfelt and secret wishes would al-
ways remain a dream without substance — and she sighed
for the third time.

"Ah, then it is so," she thought to herself in her soul.

"Yes, yes," Swidwicki continued. "My cousin is very
Platonic and in addition a trifle ansemic."

In his laughter there was a kind of bitterness and even
malice, so that Pani Krzycki again looked at him with
astonishment.

In the meantime Marynia led Miss Anney to another
chamber. Her ears each moment became redder and her
eyes sparkled with a perfectly childish curiosity. So press-
ing her little nose to Miss Anney' s cheek, she began to
whisper :

"Tell me! Did he propose to you at the piano? Did
he propose? Tell me now."

And Miss Anney, embraced her neck with her arms and
kissing her cordially, whispered in her ear:

"Almost."

"What? — at the piano! I guessed it at once! Ho,
ho ! I am thoroughly conversant with such matters. But
how was that? Almost? How, almost?"

WHIRLPOOLS. 243

"For I know that he loves me — "

"Laudie? What did he say to you?"

"He did not even have to say it."

"I understand, I understand perfectly."

Miss Anney, though her eyes were moist, began to
laugh, and, hugging the little violinist again, said :

"Let us now return to the salon."

"Let us return," answered Marynia.

On the way she said with delighted countenance:

"You and Zosia, thought that I saw nothing, and I —
oho!"

In the salon they chanced upon a political discussion.
The tall elderly gentleman with the white mane, who was
a colleague and friend of the late Otocki and at the same
time editor of one of the principal dailies in Warsaw, said :

" They think that this is a new state of affairs, which
henceforth is bound to continue, but it is an attack
of hysteria, after which exhaustion and prostration will
follow. I have lived long in the world and often have wit-
nessed similar phenomena. Yes, it is so. It is a stupid
and wicked revolution."

If Swidwicki had heard from some madman that this
was a wise and salutary revolution, he undoubtedly would
have been of the opinion of the old editor, but, as he es-
teemed lightly journalists in general, he was particularly
angered at the thought that the amiable old gentleman
passed in certain circles as a political authority; so he
began at once to dispute.

"Only the bottomless naivete of the conservatives,"
he said, "is capable of demanding from a revolution
reason and goodness. It is the same as demanding, for
instance, of a conflagration that it should be gentle and
sensible. Every revolution is the child of the passions —
unreason and rage — and not of love. Its aim is to blow
up the old forms of folly and evil and forcibly introduce into
life the new."

244 WHIRLPOOLS.

"And how do you picture to yourself the new?"

" In reality as also foolish and wicked — but new. Upon
such transitions our history is based, and even the annals
of mankind in general."

"That is the philosophy of despair."

"Or of laughter."

"If of laughter, then it is egoism."

"Yes, that is so. My partisanship begins with me and
ends with me."

Gronski impatiently smacked his lips; while the editor
took off his spectacles and, winking with his eyes, began to
wipe them with a handkerchief.

"I beg pardon," he said with great phlegm. "Your
party affiliations may be very interesting but I wanted to
speak of others."

" Less interesting — "

But the old journalist turned to Gronski.

"Our socialists," he said, "have undertaken the re-
construction of a new house, forgetting that we live huddled
together in only a few rooms, and that in the others dwell
strangers who will not assent to it; or rather, on the con-
trary, they will permit the demolition of those few rooms,
but will not allow their reconstruction."

"Then it is better to blow up the whole structure with
dynamite," interjected Swidwicki.

But this remark was passed over in silence ; after which
Gronski said:

"One thing directly astonishes me, and that is that the
conservatives turn with the greatest rage not against the
revolutionists, but against the national patriots, who do
not desire a revolution and who alone have sufficient
strength to prevent it. I understand that a foreign bureau-
cracy does this, but why should our patres conscript!
clear the way in this for them?"

The editor replaced the spectacles, wetted his finger in

WHIRLPOOLS. 245

the tea seeking the cup, afterwards raised it to his lips,
drank, and replied:

"The reason of that is their greater blindness and
sense."

"Please, explain!" exclaimed Swidwicki, who was a
little impressed by this reply.

And the neighbor from Zalesin, who eagerly listened to
the words of the journalist, asked :

" How is that, sir benefactor ? I do not understand."

"Yes, it is so," answered the editor. "Their greater
blindness is due to the narrower horizon, to the lack of
ability to look ahead into the future, into those times and
ages which are yet to come, for which it is a hundred times
more important that the great Sacred Fire 1 should not be
extinguished than that any immediate paltry benefits
should be obtained. It is necessary to have a sense of
coming events, and this they do not possess. They are a
little like Esau who relinquished his heritage for a pot of
lentils. And for us it is not allowable to relinquish any-
thing. Absolutely nothing! On the other hand, when
concerned about isolated moments, about ranks and con-
nections in a given instant of time, the conservatives are a
hundred times more sensible, adroit — commit far less
errors in details and view matters more soberly. I speak
of this with entire impartiality for I myself am a non-
partisan."

"Who is right neither in the present time nor will be in
the future," interposed Swidwicki. "After all, I agree that
the difference between the views of politicians favoring
reconciliation and sentimental patriots and zealots in gen-
eral lies in this, that from political moderation you can
immediately coin money, though at times counterfeit,
but from sentimental politics, — only in the future. His-
tory confirms at every stage that what one hundred, fifty,
1 Referring to the Sacred Fire of pagan Lithuanians.

246 WHIRLPOOL.

or twenty years ago appeared to be political or social in-
sanity, to-day has entered into being. And it will be ever
thus in the further course of time."

"That may be," said Gronski, "but it is only just so far
as radicalism of ideas or the furies of feeling do not strike
terror in a great, stupid, immediate act. For if this occurs
a crime is perpetrated, and error is born which menaces the
future. This happens frequently."

"And I assume that this is just what the conservatives
fear," answered the journalist, "an excessively warm
patriotism — and it must Ue admitted, often improvident
and absurd in its manifestations — strikes them with terror.
Formerly they feared that the peasants, who read 'The
Pole* might take to their scythes. At present they have
gooseflesh when some zealot breaks out with a word about
the future kingdom of Poland."

"Kingdom of Poland!" said Swidwicki, snorting iron-
ically. " I will tell you gentlemen an anecdote. A certain
Russian official became insane and suffered from a mania
of greatness. In reality his delusion lay hi this, that he at-
tained the highest position in heaven as well as on earth.
And whom do you suppose that he imagined himself to be ? "

"Well I God?"

"More."

"I confess that my imagination reels," answered Gronski.

"Ah, you see ! In the meantime he invented a position
still higher, for he represented himself as the 'presiding
officer* of the Holy Trinity. Understand? That there
was a committee consisting of God, the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost — and he was its chairman. Is not
that more?"

"True, but why do you cite that anecdote?"

" As a proof that for diseased brains there are no im-
possibilities and that only such brains can think of a king-
dom of Poland."

WHIRLPOOLS. 247

Gronski remained silent for a while, and then said :
"Twenty millions of people are something tangible, and
permit me to say that the chairmanship of the Holy Trin-
ity is a greater impossibility. What do you know about
the future and who can divine it ? The most you can say
is that in view of the present conditions the thought of
creating anything like it by force, through revolution,
would be a mistake, and even a crime. But our nation
will be devoured only when it allows itself to be devoured.
But if it does not? If through great and noble efforts it
shall bring forth enlightenment, social discipline, pros-
perity, science, literature, art, wealth, sanitation, a quiet
internal strength, then what? And who to-day can tell
what shape in the future the political and social condi-
tions will assume? Who can vouch that the systems of
government of the present day may not entirely change,
that they will not fall and will not be adjudged as idiotic
and criminal as to-day we regard tortures? Who can
divine what governments will arise in that great sea which
isl humanity ? The man who, for instance, in the time of
Cicero would have said that social economy could exist
without slavery would have been deemed crazy, and,
nevertheless, to-day slavery does not exist. And in our
political relations something similar might take place.
To-day's conditions of coercion might change into volun-
tary and free unions. I do not know whether it will be so,
but you do not know that it will not be so. In view of this,
I see the necessity of quiet and iron labor, but I do not see
the necessity of the repudiation or renunciation of any
ideals — and I will tell you too that the Pole who does
not bear that great ideal, at the bottom of his soul, is in a
measure a renegade; and I do not understand why he
does not renounce everything."

"Write that in verse and in Latin," answered Swid-
wicki with impatience, "for in that manner you will upset
the heads of a less number of men."

248 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Then our present day antagonists may themselves say
to us : ' Arrange matters to suit yourselves/ At the present
moment it may seem a naive fancy, but the future carries
in its bosom such surprises, as not only the shortsighted
politicians have not dreamed of, but even philosophers who
can look ahead."

After which, having evidently sufficient of this discus-
sion, he added:

" But enough of this. I suspend the argument and pause.
To-day we must occupy ourselves not with politics, but
with the young lady whoSe birthday we celebrate and
whom undoubtedly such things weary."

Saying this, he turned to Marynia, standing at Miss
Anney's side, but she, shaking her little head, replied at
once with great ardor :

"On the contrary! I am of the same opinion as Pan
Gronski."

And she blushed to her ears, for all began to laugh,
while Swidwicki replied :

" If that is so, then everything is settled."

Ladislaus smiled at Marynia's embarrassment, though
in truth he did not know what it all was about, as his whole
soul surged in his enamoured eyes, gazing at Miss Anney.
She stood between two chairs, calm, smiling, white in her
light dress, cheery as the summer dawn, and only after the
close of the discussion rosier than usual, and he plainly
devoured her with his gaze. His thoughts and heart raged
within him. He looked at her radiant countenance, on
her bare arms, chiseled as if out of warm marble, at her
developed strong breast, on the sinuous pliant lines of
her figure, on her knees turned towards him and outlined
under her light dress, and he was seized by a whirlwind of
desires, which struggled with the feeling of worship and re-
spect which he entertained for this maiden, pure as a tear.
His pulse commenced to beat strangely and on his fore-

WHIRLPOOLS. 249

head appeared a braid of veins. At the thought that she
was to be his wife and that all these treasures would be
his, he was enveloped by a fire of blood, and at the same
time by some kind of debility so great that at times he was
uncertain whether he would be able to lift the chair. At
the same time he quarrelled with himself. He became in-
dignant from his whole soul at that "animal" which he
could not subdue within himself, and upbraided himself
to the last words because he did not love her — "that
angel" — as he should love her, that is with the love which
only kneels and idolizes. So, in thought, he fell on his
knees before his loved one, embraced her limbs, and im-
plored forgiveness, but when he imagined that his lips
kissed her feet, again lust seized him by the hair. And in
this struggle he felt not only unworthy of her, not only
"a beast," but at the same time a half-baked and ludicrous
blunderer, deprived of that reason, peace, and self-control
which a true man should possess.

He was also possessed by astonishment that everything
which could promise delight should also at the same time
torment him. Fortunately, his further torments and medi-
tations were interrupted by music, with which an evening
at Pani Otocka's had to conclude. Bochener sat at the
piano, the irascible notary began to blow in his flute, and
Marynia stood aside with the violin, and if those present
were not accustomed to the sight of her, they would have
been astonished at the change which took place in her.
The beautiful but childish face of a delighted and inquisi-
tive girl assumed in a single moment an expression of
gravity and profound calm. Her eyes became thoughtful
and sad. On the red background of the salon her slim
form appeared like a design of the best style on a painted
church window. There was something in her plainly
hieratic.

A trio began. The gentle tones began to rock Ladis-

250 WHIRLPOOLS.

laus' agitated soul. His senses gradually fell asleep and
his desires were extinguished. His love metamorphosed
into a great winged angel who carried his loved one in
his arms as if a child, and soared with her in the immeasur-
able space before an altar composed of the lustre of the
evening twilight and the nocturnal lights of stars.

The hour was late, when Gronski, Swidwicki, and
Ladislaus left Pani Otocka's. On the streets they met
few pedestrians, but every few paces, they encountered
the military and police patrol, which stopped them and
asked for passports. ThiS time Swidwicki did not pre-
tend to be intoxicated, for he fell into a bad humor just be-
cause at Pani Otocka's he had to content himself with two
glasses of wine. So, showing the policeman the passport,
he pointed to his dress-suit and white cravat and asked
them surlily whether socialists or bandits dressed in that
manner.

"If only lightning would smite the one and the other,"
he said, striking the sidewalk with his cane. " In addition,
everything is closed, not only the restaurants in the hotels,
but even the pharmacies, in which in an extreme case, vin
de coca or alcohol can be procured. The pharmacies are
striking ! We have lived to see that ! The doctors also
ought to strike and then the grave-diggers will unwillingly
have to strike also. May the devil seize all ! At home I
have not a single bottle; so throughout the entire night I
will not be able to sleep a wink and to-morrow I will be as
if taken off the cross — "

"Come with us," said Gronski, "perhaps we may find
a bottle of something and black coffee."

"You have saved not only my life but that of my 'as-
sociate/ especially if two bottles are found."

"We will seek. But what kind of associate are you
speaking of ? "

"True, you yet know nothing. I will relate it over a
glass."

WHIRLPOOLS. 251

It was not far to Gronski's residence, so soon they were
seated around a table on which was found a bottle of
noble Chambertin and a coffee-percolator with black coffee,
steaming in a delicious manner.

Swidwicki regained his spirits.

"Those ladies," he said, "are real angels, and for the
reason that it is there, as if in Paradise, where happiness
consists in gazing upon eternal brightness and listening
to the archangel choir."

Here he addressed Krzycki :

"I observed that this suffices for you and Gronski —
but for me it is absolutely too little."

"Only do not begin to sharpen your tongue on those
ladies," replied Gronski, "for I shall order the bottle re-
moved instanter."

Swidwicki hugged it with both hands.

"I idolize — all three," he exclaimed with comic pre-
cipitancy.

"Of what kind of associate were you speaking?"

Swidwicki swallowed the wine and, closing his eyes, for
a while appraised its value.

"I have with me from this morning some kind of gal-
lows-bird, for whom the police are looking and, if they find
him with me, they will probably hang us both."

"You, however, have given him shelter?"

"I gave him shelter because he was brought by one
whom I could not refuse."

"I will wager that it was some woman."

"That is true. I can add that she is comely and one of
those who excite in me a responsive electric current. But
I cannot tell you her name, as she begged me to keep that
secret."

"I do not ask," said Gronski, "but as to the current I
have no doubt, as otherwise you would fear to place your-
self in jeopardy."

252 WHIRLPOOLS.

To this Swidwicki said:

"Know this, that I do not fear anything in the world,
and this gives me in this enslaved country such an un-
heard of independence as is not enjoyed by any one else."

Saying this, he drained the glass to the bottom and
exclaimed :

"Long live liberty — but only my own."

"Nevertheless, all this demonstrates that you have a
little good in your heart."

"Not in the least. I did that, firstly, because I expect a
reward, on which, after aff, in such virtuous company, I
prefer not to dilate — unless after a second bottle — and
again, because I will have some one upon whom I can
vent my spleen and assert my ascendency. I assure you
that my gallows-bird will not sleep upon roses — and who
knows whether after a week he will not prefer the gallows
to my hospitality?"

"That is possible. But in the meantime?"

"In the meantime I bought for him Allen's Waters in
order to bleach the black tufts of hair on his head into a
light color. 'Are te biondegiante' — as during Titian's
time. I feel also a little satisfaction at the thought that
the police will stand on their heads to find him and will
not get him."

"But if they find him?"

"I doubt it. Do you remember that for a certain time
I had a footman, a native of Bessarabia, whom you knew ?
Over two months ago he robbed me and ran away. He
has already written to me from New York with a proposi-
tion which I will not repeat to you. A superb type ! Per-
fectly modern. But before his escape he begged me to
return to him his passport, as now they are asking about
passports every moment. But I mislaid it in some book
and could not find it. But recently — two or three days ago
— I accidentally found it, so that my gallows-bird will have
not only blond hair but also a passport."

WHIRLPOOLS. 253

"And will he not rob you like his predecessor?"

" I told him that he ought to do that, but he became in-
dignant. It seems to me that he is boiling with indig-
nation from morning until night, and if in the end he
should steal from me it would be from indignation that I
could suppose anything like that of him. That little pat-
roness who shoved him on my neck vouches also that he
is honest, but did not even tell me his name. Clever girl !
For she says thus: 'If they find him, then you can excuse
yourself on the plea that you did not know who he was.'
And she is right — though when some marks of gratitude
are concerned, she scratches like a cat. For her, I expose
myself to the halter, and when I wanted from her a little of
that — then I almost got it in the snout."

Gronski knit his brows and began to sharply eye Swid-
wicki ; after which, he said :

"Miss Anney's servant asked me this morning about
your residence. Tell me, what does that mean?"

Swidwicki again drank the wine.

"Ah, she also called — she was there. Pani Otocka
sent through her an invitation."

"Pani Otocka sent you an invitation through Pauly.
Tell that to some one else."

"About what are you concerned?" asked Swidwicki,
with jovial effrontery. "She ordered her to send the in-
vitation through a messenger but the messengers since
last night are on a strike. Now everybody strikes. Girls
also, — with the exception of the 'female associates/
particularly the old and ugly ones. These, if they strike,
then sans le vouloir."

The reply appeared to Gronski to be satisfactory, as in
reality messengers had been absent from the streets since
the previous day. Then Swidwicki turned the conversa-
tion into another direction.

"I received him," he said, "not to save an ass, but be-

254 WHIRLPOOLS.

cause I am bored and it just suited me. Some wise Italian
once said that the divinity which holds everything in
this world in restraint is called la paura, — fear ; and the
Italian was right. If the people did not fear, nothing
would remain — not a single social form of life I On this
ladder of fear there are numerous rounds and the highest
is the fear of death. Death I That is a real divinity!
Reges rego, leges lego, judice judico ! And I confess that
I, whose life has been passed in toppling from pedestals
various divinities, had the most difficulty in overcoming
this divinity. But I overcame it and so completely that I
made it my dog."

"What did you do?"

"A dog, which as often as it pleases me, I stroke over
the hair, as for instance now, when I received that revolu-
tionary booby. But that is yet nothing ! See under what
terror people live: the executioner's axe, the gallows, the
bullet, cancer, consumption, typhoid fever, tabes —
suffering, pain, whole months and years of torture — and
why ? Before the fear of death. And I jeer at that. Me,
hangman will not execute, cancer will not gnaw, consump-
tion will not consume, pain will not break, torture will not
debase, for I shout, in a given moment, at this divinity
before which all tremble, as at a spaniel: 'Lie down V"

After which he laughed and said :

"And that mad booby of mine, however, hid himself
as if before death. Tell me what would happen if people
actually did not fear?"

"They would not be themselves," answered Gronski.
"They desire life, not death."

WHIRLPOOLS. 255

XI

SWIDWICKI did not lie when he said that he did not know
the name of the revolutionist to whom he promised an
asylum, for in reality Pauly had made a secret of it.
She so arranged it with Laskowicz on the way. The young
student, learning that Swidwicki, to whom the girl was
conducting him, was an acquaintance of Gronski and
Pani Otocka, in the first moments became frightened in-
ordinately. He recollected the letters which he had writ-
ten to Panna Marynia, and his odious relations with Krzycki
upon whom his party a short time previously perpetrated
an attack. Personally he did not participate in it and the
suggestion did not emanate from him, but on the other
hand he did not have the slightest doubt that the com-
mittee issued the death sentence as a result of his reports
designating Krzycki as the chief obstacle to their propa-
ganda, and he remembered that he did nothing to pre-
vent the attempt, and was even pleased in his soul that a
man, hateful to him and at the same time a putative rival,
would be removed from his path.

For a time he even felt, owing to this "washing of
hands," a certain internal disgust; at the intelligence,
however, that the attack was unsuccessful he experienced,
as it were, a feeling of disappointment. And now he was
going to seek shelter with a man who was a relative of
Pani Otocka and who might have heard of the letters to
Marynia and his relations with Krzycki. This was a turn
of affairs, clearly fatal, which might frustrate the best
intentions of Panna Pauly.

256 WHIRLPOOLS.

Considering all this he began to beg the girl not to men-
tion his name, giving as a reason that in case the police
should find him, Swidwicki would be less culpable.

Pauly admitted the full justness of this; after a while,
however, she observed that if Pan Gronski should ever
visit Swidwicki then everything would be disclosed.

"Yes," answered the student, "but I need that refuge
for only a few days; after which I will look for another,
or else my chiefs may dispatch me abroad."

"What chiefs?" asked Pauly.

"Those who desire libeity and bread for all, and who
will not tolerate that some one should be raised above you,
little lady, either in rank or money."

"I do not understand. How is that? I would not be a
servant and would not have a mistress ?"

"Yes."

Pauly was struck by the thought that in that case
she would be nearer to her "young lord," but not having
time to discuss this any longer, she repeated :

"I do not understand. Later, I will question you about
it, but now let us proceed."

And they walked hurriedly ahead, in silence, until they
reached Swidwicki's door. On the ringing of the bell, he
opened it himself. With surprise but also with a smile he
saw Pauly in the dark hallway and afterwards catching
sight of Laskowicz, he asked :

"What is he here for? Who is he?"

"May we enter and may I speak with you in private?"
asked the girl.

"If you please. The more private, the more agreeable
it will be to me."

And they entered. The student remained in the first
room. The master of the house conducted Pauly to
another and closed the door after him.

Laskowicz began to examine the large room, full of dis-

WHIRLPOOLS. 257

order, with books, and engravings, and an abundance of
bottles with white and blue labels. On the round table,
near the window, piled with daily newspapers, stood a
bottle with the legend : " Vin de Coca ; Mariani," and a few
ash trays with charred lighters for cigars and cigarettes.
The furniture in the room was heavy and evidently when
new was costly but it was now dirty. Hanging on the wall
were pictures, among them a portrait of Pani Otocka,
while yet a young unmarried lady. In one corner pro-
truded the well known statue of the Neapolitan Psyche
with mutilated skull.

The student placed the flower-pot with the Italian lilies
on the table and began to eavesdrop. His life was in-
volved, for if shelter was denied to him he undoubtedly
would be arrested that day. Through the closed door
came to him from time to time Swidwicki's outbursts of
laughter, and the conversing voices, in which the voice of
the girl sounded at times as if entreating, and at other
moments angry and indignant. This lasted a long time.
Finally the doors opened and the first to enter was Pauly,
evidently angry, and with burning cheeks ; after her came
Swidwicki, who said:

"Very well. Since the beautiful Pauly so wishes it, I
will not tell any one who brought to me this Sir Ananias,
and will keep him under cover, but on condition that
Pauly will prove a little grateful to me."

"I am grateful," answered the girl with irritation.

"These are the proofs," said Swidwicki, displaying marks
on the back of his hands. "A cat could not scratch any
better. But to only look at little Pauly, I will agree even
to that. The next time we will have some candy."

"Good-by till we meet again."

"Till we meet. May it be as frequent as possible."

The girl took the pot with the flowers and left. Then
Swidwicki thrust his hands into his pockets and began to

17

258 WHIRLPOOLS.

stare at Laskowicz as if he had before him, not a human
being, but some singular animal. Laskowicz looked at
him in the same way, and during that short interval they
acquired for each other a mutual dislike.

Finally Swidwicki asked:

"Ah, esteemed Sir Benefactor, of what party? Social-
ist, anarchist, or bandit? I beg of you! without cere-
mony I I do not ask your name, but it is necessary to be
acquainted somehow."

"I belong to the Polish Socialist Party," answered the
student with a certain prid£

"Aha I Then to the most stupid one. Excellent. That
is as if some one said : To the atheistic-Catholic or to the
national-cosmopolitan? I am truly delighted to bid you
welcome."

Laskowicz was not in the least meek by nature, and be-
sides he understood in a moment that he had before him a
man with whom he would gain nothing by meekness ; so,
gazing straight into Swidwicki's eyes, be replied almost
contemptuously :

"If you, sir, can be a Catholic and Pole, I can be a
socialist and Pole."

But Swidwicki laughed.

"No, Sir Chieftain," he said, "Catholicism is a smell.
One can be a cat and have a fainter or stronger odor, but
one cannot be a cat and dog in one and the same person."

"I am no chieftain; only a third-class agent," retorted
Laskowicz. "You, sir, have given me a refuge and your-
self the right to mock me."

"Exactly, exactly 1 But for that I shall not require any
gratitude. We can, after all, change the subject. Sit
down, Sir Third-class Agent. What is new ? How is His
Majesty, the king."

"What king?"

"Why the one you serve and who to-day has the most

WHIRLPOOLS. 259

courtiers; the one who, most of all, cannot endure the
truth and most easily gulps adulation; the one, who in
winter smells of whiskey and in summer of sour sweat, —
that mangy, lousy, scabby, stinking, gracious, or rather,
ungracious ruler of the day, King Rabble."

If Laskowicz had heard the most monstrous blasphemies
against a holy object, which heretofore mankind vener-
ated, he would not have been more horrified than at the
words which passed Swidwicki's lips. For him it was as
if he were struck on the head with a club, for it never
crossed his mind that any one would have dared to utter
anything like that. His eyes became dim, his jaws tight-
ened convulsively, his hands began to tremble. In the
first moments he was possessed by an irrepressible desire
to shoot Swidwicki in the head with the revolver he carried
with him and afterwards slam the door and go wherever
his eyes would take him, or else to place the barrel to his
ear and shatter his own head, but he lacked the strength.
All night long he had toiled in the printing plant; after
which he had fled over the roofs and through the streets
like a wild animal. He was fatigued, hungry, and ex-
hausted with the frightful experiences of that morning. So
he suddenly staggered on his feet, became as pale as a
corpse, and would have tumbled upon the ground if a
chair had not stood close by, into which he sank heavily,
as if dead.

"What is this? What in the devil ails you?" asked
Swidwicki.

And he began to assist him. He poured out of a bottle
the remainder of the cognac and forced him to drink it;
afterwards he lifted him from the chair and led him to
another room and almost forcibly put him in his own bed.

"What the devil!" he repeated; "how do you feel?"

"Better," answered Laskowicz.

Swidwicki glanced at his watch.

260 WHIRLPOOLS.

"In about ten minutes, the old woman who serves here
ought to come. I will order her to bring something to eat.
In the meanwhile lie quietly."

Laskowicz obeyed this advice, as he could not do
otherwise. Lying there, however, he for a time knit his
brow, and evidently his mind was laboring. Then he said :

"That king — about whom you inquired — is — starv-
ing-"

"May the devil take him I" replied Swidwicki. " The
bourgeoisie will feed him, and for this he at the first oppor-
tunity will cut their throats* But do not take to heart too
seriously whatever I say ; for I say the same and stronger
things to all parties. All ! Do you understand, sir?"

The bell interrupted further conversation. Laskowicz
trembled like an aspen leaf.

"That is my old woman. I recognize the ring," said
Swidwicki. "She is earlier to-day than usual. Very well.
I will order her to bring food at once."

In fact, after a quarter of an hour, food was placed on
the table. Refreshed, Laskowicz came entirely to him-
self and did not think of forsaking his new shelter. Swid-
wicki began to open and rummage through various drawers.
Finally, finding a passport, he handed it to Laskowicz and
said:

"Before you, Sir Benefactor, become dictator of all
Poland you will call yourself Zaranczko. You come from
Bessarabia and have served with me a year. If they should
catch you and, with you, me, repeat only one expression,
1 Mamalyga,1 mamalyga'"

In this manner Laskowicz was installed in Swidwicki's
home.

> Mamalyga, a kind of porridge in Bessarabia, made princi-
pally of corn.

WHIRLPOOLS. 261

XII

THE morning after Marynia's birthday was unusually
gloomy. The western wind drove heavy black clouds,
which hung over the city, foretelling a storm. The at-
mosphere became oppressive and sultry. When Ladislaus
entered the church it was completely dark within. In the
Chapel of the Divine Mother a quiet votive mass commenced
almost with his entry, and the flickering little flames of the
candles, lighted before the altar, poorly illuminated the
darkness. Ladislaus began to search with his eyes for Miss
Anney and he recognized her by the light hair protruding
from under her hat. She knelt in the first pew, her hands
crossed in prayer and resting upon an open book. Seeing
Ladislaus, she nodded her head and drew aside, to make
room for him, not pausing in her prayers. He wanted to
speak to her but did not dare, and only kneeling, drew
somewhat towards himself the book so that they might
pray from it together. It was, however, so dark that he
could read nothing and after a while he became convinced
that he could not pray at all. He was seized by great
emotion, for he understood that a new epoch in his life had
commenced, and that this moment, in which by the con-
sent of Miss Anney he knelt at her side before the altar
to mutually entreat God for blessing, signified more than
any other avowals, and that it was the first sanctification
of their loves and their joint future lives. He was possessed
by a sense of his happiness, but at the same time by some
kind of solemn apprehension at the thought that every-
thing would soon cease to be only a dream, only a fancy,
only a phantom of happiness, and become realized and

262 WHIRLPOOLS.

accomplished. Through his mind glided the interrogato-
ries, — How will he be able to bear this happiness, what will
he do with it, and how will he acquit himself, — and from
these questions there was bred in him a sense of immense
responsibility, surcharged with fear. It was like certain
worries which hitherto, as a free man, he had not known or
at least had not met face to face. And he saw before him
cares more direct and immediate. The moment of his
interview with his mother was approaching; there were
also some secret obstacles, which Gronski mentioned, and
it was incumbent upon hin» to weigh everything, to plan,
settle various matters, and set aside anticipated difficulties.
In truth, now, if ever, it was worth while and necessary
to trust to the Divine favor, invoke the All-provident aid,
and deliver her to the care of the Future. Ladislaus ob-
served that similar feelings and similar thoughts must have
swayed Miss Anney as her countenance was calm, com-
posed, grave, and even sad. The little flames of the candles
were reflected in her upraised eyes and for a while it seemed
to Ladislaus that he saw tears in those eyes. Apparently
with the whole strength of her soul she committed him and
herself to God. And thus they knelt beside each other,
shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, and already united,
happy, and a little timorous. Ladislaus, having suppressed
the whirlwind of thoughts, at last began to pray and said
to God, "Do with me whatever Thou wilt, but grant her
happiness and peace." And a prodigious overflowing
wave of love deluged his bosom. His prayer became at
the same time a solemn espousal and internal oath that he
would never wrong that most precious being in the world,
and that those eyes would never weep for his sake.

In the meantime the votive mass was nearing its close.
When the priest turned from the altar, his words, in the
half-empty chapel, were as if dreamy and like whispering
amidst sighs — as usually happens at the early morning

WHIRLPOOLS. 263

mass. But at times they were deafened by thunders, as
the storm began outside. The windows of the chapel
darkened yet more, and from time to time livid lightning
illuminated the panes ; after which the darkness grew yet
denser, and on the altar the little flames of the candles
twinkled uneasily. The priest turned around once more;
" Dominus vobiscum ! " after which, " lie missa est." After-
wards he blessed the assembled and retired. The small
number of faithful who heard the mass followed his ex-
ample. Only they two remained. Then she began to say in
a whisper, broken by emotion, "Under Thy protection we
flee, Holy Mother of God," and the further words "Our
entreaties deign not to spurn and from all evil deign to
preserve us forever," were said jointly with Ladislaus, and
in this manner the entire prayer concluded.

After this, silence fell between them, was broken only
after a long while by Ladislaus.

"We will have to wait," he said in a low voice. "The
storm is yet continuing."

"Very well," answered Miss Anney.

"My dear, dearest lady — "

But she placed her finger to her lips and silence again
ensued. They did not, however, have to wait very long,
for the summer storms come and pass away like birds.
After the lapse of a quarter of an hour they left the church.
The streets were flooded by the rain, but through the rifts
of the scattered and rent clouds the sun shone brightly
and, it seemed, moistly. Miss Anney's eyes winked under
the flood of light and her countenance was as if she
was awakened from a dream. But her composure and
gravity did not pass away. Ladislaus, on the other hand,
at the sight of the sun, and the bustle and life on the streets,
was at once imbued with gayety and hope. He glanced
once and again at his companion and she seemed to him
as wonderful as a dream, charming as never before, and

264 WHIRLPOOLS.

adorable simply beyond measure and bounds. He felt
that he was capable of seizing her at that moment in his
arms; of showing her to the sun, the clouds, the city, the
human multitude, and exclaiming: "Behold my wealth,
my treasure ; this is the joy of my life ! " But, conjecturing
properly that Miss Anney would not assent to any mani-
festations like that, he subdued this impulse and directed
his thoughts to more important matters.

"My adored lady," said he, "I must give utterance to
words which burn my lips. When may I come to see
you?"

"To-day at four," she replied; "I also have to tell you
something upon which everything depends."

"Everything depends upon you, lady, and upon nothing
else."

But her clear cheeks were suffused with confused blushes :
her eyes shone as if with disagreeable uneasiness ; and she
replied :

"God grant — you do not know, sir — you do not know
sir— " she repeated with emphasis. "We will be alone. —
But now we must part."

Ladislaus escorted her to the carriage, kissed her hands
and remained alone. Her words, corroborating that which
Gronski had intimated as a result of his interviews with
Pani Otocka, disquieted him, however, but only for a short
time, as he was too much in love to suppose that it could
change his love or swerve him from his purpose. At the
mere thought of this he shrugged his shoulders.

"Women," he said to himself, "are always full of scruples
and to actual difficulties they add chimerical ones."

After which, he returned home in the best of humor,
and besides Gronski, found there Dolhanski.

"Behold," exclaimed Gronski, "lo, here is Dolhanski
the bachelor. Congratulate him for he is going to marry."

" No ? " Truly ? asked Ladislaus, amused.

WHIRLPOOLS. 265

"With Panna Kajetana Wlocek," added Dolhanski,
with sangfroid and extraordinary gravity.

"Then I tender my best wishes from the whole heart.
When is the wedding?"

"Very soon, on account of the weather, famine, fire, and
war, also similar exceptional circumstances. In a week.
Without publication of the banns, on an indult. After
the wedding, the same night a trip abroad."

"And you say all this seriously?"

"With the greatest seriousness in the world. Observe
the exquisite consequences."

Here Dolhanski spread out his fingers and began to
enumerate : "

"Primo, my credit is resurrected, as a Hindoo fakir,
who, buried in the ground for a whole month, awakes after
exhumation to a new life ; secundo : Gorek is without a
copper coin of indebtedness and without society; tertio-
my marriage settlement surpasses my expectations ; quarto :
my fiancee from good luck has grown so beautiful that you
would not recognize her."

"What are you saying?" cried Ladislaus, ingenuously.

266 WHIRLPOOLS.

xm

PROMPTLY at four, Ladislaus appeared at Miss Anney's.
She received him feelingly and for a greeting offered both
hands which he began to press alternately to his lips and
his forehead. Afterwards they sat beside each other and
for a long time heard only the quickened beating of their
own hearts and the faint sotfnds of the clock on the writing-
desk. They reciprocally glanced at each other but neither
was able to say the first word. After a while life could glow
for them like a new dawn, glistening with joy and happi-
ness, but, for the time being, it was heavy, embarrassing,
the more embarrassing the longer the silence continued.

Finally, Ladislaus from a feeling, that, if he kept silent
much longer, he would appear ridiculous, mustered enough
courage and spoke in a broken voice, whose sounds
appeared strange to him !

"From this morning I have a little hope — and
nevertheless my heart beats as if I did not have any —
I could not say a single word until I caught my breath —
but that is nothing strange as my whole life is concerned.

— Lady, you long ago, of course, surmised how deeply

— how with my whole soul I love you, — you knew this
long ago — is it not so?"

Here he again inhaled the air, took a deep breath, and
continued :

"To-day in the church I said to myself this : 'If she will
hear me, if she does not spurn me, if she consents to be my
own for my whole life — my wife — then I vow solemnly to
God before this altar that I will love and honor her; that
I will never wrong her and will give her all the happiness
which is in my power/ And I swear to you that this is the

WHIRLPOOLS. 267

truth — It only depends upon you, lady, that it shall
be so — upon your consent — upon your faith in me."

Saying this, he again raised Miss Anney's hands to his
lips and imprinted upon them a long imploring kiss and
she leaned towards him so that her hair lightly brushed his
forehead, and quietly replied:

"I consent and believe with my whole soul — but this
does not depend upon me alone."

"Only upon you, lady," exclaimed Ladislaus.

And believing that Miss Anney had his mother in mind,
he began to say with a brightened face and deep joy in
his voice:

"My mother desires my happiness above all things and
I assure you that she will come here with me to beg of you ;
and with me she will thank you for this great, this ineffable
boon, and in the meantime I on my knees thank — "

He wanted to drop on his knees before her and embrace
her limbs with his arms, but she began to restrain him and
say with feverish haste:

"No, no. Do not kneel, sir, — you must first hear me.
I consent, but I must confess things upon which everything
depends. Please calm yourself."

Ladislaus rose, again sat beside her and said, with
anxious surprise:

"I listen, my dearest lady."

"And I must compose myself a little," replied Miss
Anney.

After which she rose, and approaching the window,
pressed her forehead against the pane.

For some time silence again ensued.

"What is it?" spoke out Krzycki.

Miss Anney withdrew her forehead from the pane. Her
countenance was calmer, but her eyes were dimmed as
if with tears. Approaching the table, she sat down op-
posite to Ladislaus.

268 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Before I relate what it is now necessary for me to state,"
she said, "I have a great favor to ask of you. And if
you — love me truly — then you will not refuse — "

"Lady, if you demanded my life, I would not refuse it.
I pledge you my word," he exclaimed.

"Very well. Give me your word. Then I will be cer-
tain."

"I pledge it in advance and swear upon our future hap-
piness that I will comply with your every wish."

"Very well," repeated Miss Anney. "Then I first beg
of you, by all you hold m6*st precious, not to feel at all
bound by anything you have said to me just now."

"I not feel bound? In what way? Of course, it may
not be binding upon you, lady — but on me — "

"Well, then, I release you from all obligations and con-
sider that nothing has been said. You promised me that
you would not refuse me anything, but this is not all."

"Not all?"

"No, I am anxious that after what I shall tell you, you
shall not give me any answer — and for a whole week
shall not return to me and shall not try to see me."

"But in the name of God, what is it?" cried Ladislaus;
"why should I suffer a week of torments? What does this
mean?"

"And for me it also will be a torment," she answered
in a soft voice. "But it is necessary, it is imperative.
You will have to explain everything to yourself; weigh
everything, unravel and decide everything — and form
a resolution — afterwards you may return or may not
return — and a week for all that will be rather too little."

And perceiving the agitation on Ladislaus1 face, she hur-
riedly added, as if alarmed :

"Sir, you promised — you pledged me your word!"

Ladislaus drew his hand across the hair of his head;
after which he began to rub his forehead with his palm.

WHIRLPOOLS. 269

"I gave the word,'* he said at last, "because you re-
quested it, lady — but why?"

And Miss Anney turned pale to the eyes; for a while
her lips quivered as though she struggled vainly to draw
the words from her bosom, and only after an interval did
she reply :

"Because — at one time I — did not bear the name of
Anney."

"You did not bear the name of Anney?"
. " I — am — Hanka Skibianka."

Ladislaus rose, staggered like a drunken man, and
began to stare at her with a bewildered look.

And she added in almost a whisper:

" Little master ! — 't is I — of the mill."

And tears coursed quietly over her pallid countenance.

270 WHIRLPOOLS.

PAET HI

KRZYCKI left Miss Armey's with a sensation as if lightning
had struck directly in front of him and suddenly stunned
him. He could neither coflect nor connect his thoughts;
he was not even in a condition to realize his situation nor
reflect upon it. The only impression, or rather feeling,
which in the first moments remained was a feeling of
illimitable amazement. On the way he repeated every
little while, "Hanka Skibianka ! Hanka Skibianka 1" and
seemed incapable of doing aught else. He did not find
Gronski at home, as the latter had left immediately after
the noon hour, telling the servant that he would return
late at night. So he went to his room, locked himself in
without knowing why; afterwards he flung himself into
an armchair and sat abstractedly for over an hour. After
the lapse of that time, he opened his trunk and began to
pack things into it with excessive zeal, until finally he pro-
pounded to himself the question : " Why am I doing this ?"
Not being able to find an answer, he abandoned that work
and only resumed it when he came to the unexpected con-
clusion that in any case he would have to move away from
Gronski's.

Having finished, he put on his hat and left, without any
well-defined object, for the city. For a while a desire rose
in him to call upon his mother and Pani Otocka, but he
stifled it at once. For what ? It seemed to him that he had
nothing to tell his mother about himself and his intentions ;
and that he could talk with her only about this unheard-of

WHIRLPOOLS. 271

intelligence, the discussion of which would be for him,
beyond all expression, afflicting. Unconsciously, he
reached the Holy Cross Church and wanted to enter it,
but the hour was late and the church was locked. The
morning of that day and the joint prayer with her stood
vividly before his eyes. Ah, how sincerely he prayed ; how
he loved her; how he loved her! And now he could not
resist the impression that this light-haired, idolized lady,
with whom he said in that chapel "Under Thy Protection,"
and Hanka Skibianka were two different beings. And
he felt in his heart a kind of disenchantment with which he
began to contend. For why was he nevertheless so acutely
affected by it ? Was it because Hanka was a peasant girl
and he a nobleman ? No ! Miss Anney never represented
herself as an English noblewoman, and a Polish peasant
is no worse than an English commoner. He could not
clearly perceive that the reason of it lay in this : that Miss
Anney through her descent alone, foreign and distant,
appeared to him a sort of princess, and Hanka was a
near and domestic girl from Zarnow. She aroused less
curiosity and therefore was less attractive. She was so
much easier, therefore, cheaper to him. In vain he
recalled and repeated that this Hanka is that same light-
haired lady, charming as a dream, alluring, genteel, wo-
manly, responding in sentiment to every thought and
every word; the feeling of disenchantment was more
powerful than those thoughts, and that charm of exoticism,
which suddenly was lacking in the girl, minimized her
worth in his eyes.

But, besides this, there was something else, in view of
which the disenchantment and all unexpected impressions
stood aside and became matters of secondary importance.
This was, that he had once possessed that girl — body and
soul. She was at that time almost a child — a flower not
yet in full bloom which he plucked and carried for some

272 WHIRLPOOLS.

time at his bosom. The memory of that could be a re-
proach only for him; no fault whatever weighed on her.
He recollected those moonlight nights on which he stole
to the mill; those whispers which were one quiet song of
love and intoxication, interrupted only by kisses; he
recalled how he clasped to his heart her girlish body,
fragrant with the hay of the fields ; how he drank the tears
from her eyes and how he said to her that he would give up
for her all the ladies of all the courts. The idyl passed, but
now there wafted upon him from her the breath of the
first youthful years, the first love, the first ecstasy, and the
truly great poetry of life. Besides, there was truth in
what he had confided to Gronski in Jastrzeb: that the
girl loved him as no other woman in the world surely would
love him. And at the thought of this, his heart began to
melt. Together with the wave of recollection, Hanka
returned and again engaged his thoughts.

Yes. But that was Hanka and she is Miss Anney. In
Ladislaus, from the time he fell in love with her, his senses
leaped wildly towards her like a pack of yelping hounds;
but he held them in leash because at the same time he
knelt before his beloved. She was to him an object of
desire but at the same time a sacred relic; something so
inaccessible, exalted, pure, and mysterious in its virginity
that at the thought that the moment would arrive when
he would be the master of those treasures and secrets ap-
peared to him a delight beyond all measure of delight;
all the more fathomless as it was, united, as it were, with a
sacrilege. And now he had to say to himself that this sac-
rilege he had already committed ; that the charm of some-
thing unknown was dispelled; that in this vestal there
were for him no mysteries and that he had already drunk
from that cup. And this again was one lure less ; one dis-
enchantment more. In this manner Miss Anney mud-
died his recollection of the field peasant-girl, Hanka, —

WHIRLPOOLS. 273

Hanka depreciated the charm of Miss Anney. Both were
so different, so unlike each other, that, being unable to
merge them into one entity, he vainly intensified that
jarring impression with a feeling of disquietude and
pain.

In this vexation of spirit there occurred to him one
wicked, low, and ugly thought. In what manner did the
poor and simple Hanka change into the brilliant Miss
Anney? In what manner could a gray sparrow from un-
der a village thatched hut be transformed into a para-
disiacal bird ? Hanka was a betrayed girl ; therefore the
bridges had been burnt behind her. Amidst the wealth
of a foreign land, beautiful but poor girls have before them
only one road to the acquisition of affluence and even
polish, and that was the road of shame. Hanka found one
patron who took care of her in the appropriate manner;
how many similar patrons and protectors could Miss Anney
find ? At the thought of this Krzycki's head swam. Con-
science said to him, "You opened those gates before her,"
and at the same time he was seized by such anger at Miss
Anney and himself that if the life or death of both rested
in his hands, he would at that moment have selected death.
Something within him was rent asunder; something
crashed. It seemed to him that again, just above his head,
pealed lightning, which stunned him and burnt, within him,
to a crisp, the ability to think.

He wandered a long time over the city. He himself did
not know in what manner he again found himself before
Pani Otocka's home, but he did not enter for he once more
felt that at that time he could not speak with his mother.
He returned to his own house late at night. Gronski was
already at home, and for an hour had been waiting for
him with the tea.

" Good evening," he said, " I have returned from your
mother's."

18

274 WHIRLPOOLS.

And Ladislaus asked him with blunt impetuosity,
"Do you know who Miss Anney is?"

"I do. Pani Otocka told me."

A moment of silence followed.

"What do you say to this?"

"I could ask you that question."

Ladislaus sat heavily in the chair, drew his palm over
his forehead and replied with bitter irony:

"Ah, I have time. I was given a week for consideration."

"That is not too much," answered Gronski, looking at
him questioningly.

"Certainly. Does Mother also know?"

"Yes. Pani Otocka told her everything."

Again silence ensued.

"My dear Laudie," said Gronski, "I can understand
that this must have shocked you, and for that reason I will
not speak with you of it until you calm down and regain
your equipoise. You must also become familiar with and
well weigh the reasons why Miss Anney told only Pani
Otocka who she was and why she came to Jastrzeb under
her new name, to which, after all, she has a perfect right.
Here is a letter from her. She requested me to deliver it
to you to-morrow and that is why I did not hand it to you
as soon as you appeared. At present I do not think that it
would be proper to defer the matter. But do not open it
at once nor in my presence. Put it away and read it when
alone, when you can ponder over every word. Positively
do this. That which has happened moved me to such an
extent that for the time being I could not speak of it
calmly. To-day I can only give you this advice: be a
man and do not allow yourself to be swept away by the
current of impressions. Row!"

To this Ladislaus, who sobered up a little under, the in-
fluence of these words, said :

" I thank you, sir. I will read the letter in privacy. It

WHIRLPOOLS. 275

is now so indispensable to me that I trust, sir, that you will
not take it ill of me if I no longer abuse your hospitality.
I am sincerely and cordially grateful to you for every-
thing, but I must* lock myself up. How long — I do not
know. When I am myself again, I will come to you to
discuss everything, God grant, more calmly. Now in
reality, I see that I was justly given one week's time. But
besides time, I feel the need of my own den. I cannot get
rid of various thoughts, immensely bitter and even horrible.
To-day they hold me by the head and it is necessary that I
should hold them by the head — and for that reason I
want to have my own den."

"You know how willing I am to please you," answered
Gronski; "I understand you, and though in advance I
decided not to torment you with any questions, never-
theless, do what is best for yourself. I must tell you also
that your mother is moving to a hotel, as she is offended
with Pani Otocka. She took umbrage because she did
not tell her at once in Jastrzeb who Miss Anney
was."

" I confess that I do not understand that — "

"Nevertheless, that would have been directly contrary
to what those ladies desired. Pani Otocka's intentions
were the noblest. Time will elucidate and equalize every-
thing. Even Marynia did not know anything, not only
because Pani Zosia was bound by her word, but also be-
cause she did not deem it proper to acquaint her with your
former behavior and your relations with the Hanka of
former days. With Hanka — Miss Anney ! That was an
unheard-of turn of affairs. Do you remember our con-
versation in Jastrzeb when we went hunting for wood-
cock ? Do you remember ? "

"I remember, but I cannot speak of it."

"Yes, better not speak of it at this time. Miss Anney 's
letter undoubtedly will clear up the dark sides of the affair

276 WHIRLPOOLS.

and explain what is now unintelligible. If you desire to
read it at once, I will go and leave you here."

"I am very curious about it and for just that reason I
will take my leave of you."

"But you will pass this night with me?"

"I have packed my things and the hotels are always
open."

"In such case good-by! — and remember what I told
you. Row! Row!"

After a moment Gronski remained alone. He also was
agitated, distressed, but cfirious to the highest degree.
When after Ladislaus' confessions in Jastrzeb, he said to
him that "the mills of the gods grind late," he spoke it in
a way one utters, off-hand, any maxim to which one 'does
not attach any real significance. In the meantime life
verified it in a manner fabulous but nevertheless logical.
For as a fable only appeared the transformation of Hanka
into Miss Anney, but that Miss Anney desired to see the
man, whom, as a child, she loved in her first transports of
love and the place which bound her with so many memo-
ries, tender and sad, was a matter natural and intelligible.
And, of course, she could not return to Jastrzeb and stay
under the Krzycki roof-tree otherwise than under a changed
name. And thus it happened ; and the later events rolled
on with their own force until they reached the moment
when it was necessary to reveal the secret. Gronski knew
already from » Pani Otocka everything which she could
tell him and absolved from all sin her as well as Miss
Anney. Nevertheless, he understood that an unprecedented
situation was created, and such a knot was twisted that the
untangling of it was impossible to foresee. It could only
be untwined by Krzycki, and even he stood not only in
the presence of new difficulties but, as it were, in the
presence of a new person.

WHIRLPOOLS. 277

n

THE very next day after the escape from the police
Pauly visited Laskowicz and afterwards called to see him
as often as she could find leisure time, selecting, neverthe-
less, hours when Swidwicki was not at home. But this did
not present great difficulties as Swidwicki usually rose
about noon, after which he went away and did not return
until late at night. The girl was not induced to make
these frequent visits by any sentimentality nor excep-
tional benevolence for the young student. She even felt,
particularly in the first moments, that she could despise
him. But women love in general to look at close range at
their good deeds and to behold, even daily, the people for
whom they have become providential angels; and again
Laskowicz, with every word, disclosed to her worlds of
whose existence she heretofore had never guessed. About
socialists thus far she knew almost nothing, except what
a certain old female cook once told her, that "they do not
believe in God and do not eat ducks" ; and she only heard
that they threw bombs and shot from revolvers. After the
attack upon Krzycki howsoever much she, together with
all the servants in Jastrzeb, was convinced that it was per-
petrated by Rzeslewo men, nevertheless, the supposition
that it might have been the socialists reached her ears, and
then she was inflamed against them with a temporary un-
governable hatred. But now she was learning that they
were people of an entirely different stamp. She did not
yet understand what in general they wanted, but under-
stood in particular that those people desired that she,

278 WHIRLPOOLS.

Paulina Kielkowna, should be a kind of lady like Miss
Anney or Pani Otocka. And as a bee sips juice from flow-
ers, so she, from the words of the young fanatic, extracted
nourishment for her envy, her pain, her feelings. Her
heart began to draw her towards that "Party," which ap-
peared to her as a Providence and as a power; and to this
was joined the purely feminine curiosity of the awful se-
crets of that power. Laskowicz quickly observed that the
seed fell upon fit soil ; and when once, for uttering inadver-
tently a disparaging word against Krzycki, the girl almost
scratched out his eyes, he sjirmised her secret and deter-
mined to exploit her, not only for the good of the cause but
also for his own personal ends.

Although Pauly was not the servant of Pani Otocka
but of Miss Anney, she nevertheless dwelt in the same
house ; so he could, through her, secure news of Marynia,
which he craved with all his soul; he could quiet his
fears as to Krzycki's intentions, could speak of her and
hear her name; and finally could gain information as to
when and where he could see her, though from a distance.
And he questioned Panna Pauly about all this; at first
cautiously and casually, afterwards more and more, and
at last so incessantly that this began to surprise and anger
her. Prone to extremes, and more capable of hatred
than affection, she worshipped, by way of exception,
Marynia, regarding her as a sort of supernal being, and
this worship in her was as violent as was her hatred. On
the other hand, on the ideal path, in the direction of uni-
versal equality and dislike of the higher classes she made
in a brief time considerable progress. She could not
however, cast off at once her former notions, and she fre-
quently had sudden relapses to them. Hence at one time,
when Laskowicz as usual began to hurl questions at her
about Panna Marynia, she answered him testily :

" Why are you always talking about Panna Zbyltowska ?"

WHIRLPOOLS. 279

"Perhaps I am in love with her," retorted the student,
knitting his brow.

At this her eyes in a moment blazed with rage.

"What more yet?"

And he began to peer at her keenly and asked:

"Why does the little lady say 'what more yet1 ?"

"For you are as suited for her as I am — "

And she paused abruptly, but he finished :

"To Pan Krzycki, for instance."

Then she burst into a greater rage yet.

"Why do you meddle in matters that do not concern
you?"

"I do not meddle in anything. I say only if the little
lady fell in love with him and if I, hearing of it, said 'What
more yet ? ' that would be disagreeable to the little lady ?
And it would be justly disagreeable. For if the priests
prate that it is permissible to love even God, why not a
human being ? It is permissible for the little lady, it is per-
missible for me, it is permissible for everybody, for that is
the law of nature and therefore our law."

The words seconded that which was hidden in the girl's
heart too much for her anger to remain, so she only glanced
at Laskowicz, as if in sorrow, and replied :

"Eh ! Much good will come of that law !"

" It will come or not come, in time. After all, if we ad-
justed the world in our own way, no dog would bark at
such things. Is not the little lady worthy of Krzycki?
Why not? Is it because he is richer? That is just what
we are trying to prevent. Then what ? Education ? Lady,
spit upon it. That education you can teach to a monkey.
It is he, if the little lady wanted him, who ought yet to
kiss the little lady's feet."

But she again became impatient and replied:

"Idle talk."

"I also want only to say that in case I should fall in

280 WHIRLPOOLS.

love with Panna Marynia and the little lady with Krzycki,
our lot would be identical and the wrong the same."

"Wrong in what?"

"In the vile institutions of this world; in this, that such
riff-raff as ourselves are permitted to love only to suffer, and
we are not allowed to raise our eyes even upon the bour-
geoisie, even though the hearts within should whine like
dogs."

"True," answered the girl through set teeth. "But
what of it?"

"This: that we ought to<give to each other our hands,
as brother and sister, and not be angry at each other, but
assist one another. Who knows whether one may not be
of service to the other?"

"Eh 1 In what way can we help each other?"

And he again began to gaze fixedly at her with his eyes
set so closely to each other and said, uttering each word
slowly :

" I do not know whether Krzycki is in love with Panna
Marynia or with that Englishwoman whom the little lady
serves; or perhaps with neither of them."

In one moment 'Pauly's face was covered with a pallor ;
afterwards a flame passed over it, which in turn gave way
to pallor. In her soul there might have been dumb fears,
but up to that time she had dared not put to herself any
questions. Those ladies were entertained in Jastrzebas
guests. Pani Otocka and Panna Marynia were Krzycki's
relatives; therefore there was nothing unusual in their
relations. On the other hand, when the " Englishwoman"
in Jastrzeb drove for the doctor and later nursed the
wounded man, that was a time when the heart of the girl
raged with jealousy and uneasiness. Afterwards she was
placated by the thought that such a young nobleman would
not wed a foreign " intruder," no matter how wealthy, but,
at present, jealousy pierced her like a knife.

WHIRLPOOLS. 281

Laskowicz continued:

"The little lady asked in what way we can help one
another, did she not?"

"Yes."

"At least in — revenge."

After which, he changed the conversation.

" Let the little lady come to me and, if I sometimes in-
quire about anything, let her not get angry. If at times
it is hard for her, it is not easy for me. One lot, one
wrong. Let the little lady come. I do not want to live
with Swidwicki any longer. He is a peculiar man. I
know that he did not take me out of the goodness of his
heart, but as he placed himself in peril on my account I
must endure everything from him. In the meantime he
so maligns our party that I feel an impulse to shoot him in
the head or stab him with a knife."

"Why do you argue with that old goat?"

"Because he talks and I must listen. Often he goads
me into a reply. Somebody else for lesser things would
get a knife under the ribs."

"But I will not be able to hide you a second time, for I
do not know where."

"No. I myself will find some sort of hole; I have al-
ready thought of that. Our people will help. I now have
a passport and am bleached yellow on the head. Some of
my associates could not recognize me. Even if I am caught
they will not try me as Laskowicz but as Zaranczko of
Bessarabia, unless some one should betray me, but such
there is not among us."

" Only be careful, sir, and when you know where to hide,
let me know. I will not betray."

"I know, I know; such do not betray."

After which he suddenly asked:

"Why does not the little lady want to agree that we
should call each other ' associates'? Amongst us we all
speak that way."

282 WHIRLPOOLS.

But she rebuffed him at once.

"I told you once I cannot endure that."

"Ah, if it is so, then it is hard."

Pauly began to prepare for home. Laskowicz on
the leave-taking made a second departure from the cus-
toms governing his associates, for he kissed her hand.
Previously he had noticed that this raised her in her own
eyes; that it flattered her and brought her into a good
humor. Although not by nature over-intelligent, he ob-
served that the principles of the Party alone would not en-
tirely hold her, and that he^would have in that girl an aid
capable of all extremes, but only so far as her own per-
sonality entered into the play. This lowered the opinion
which he held of her and his gratitude to her. He never-
theless submitted to this despotism, remembering that he
owed to her his life.

At present he had, besides, a favor to ask of her ; so at
the door he kissed her hand a second time and said :

" Panna Pauly — the same lot, the same wrong. Let the
little lady answer yet one more question. Where can I see
though from a distance — though from a distance — "

"Whom?" she asked, knitting her brows.

"Panna Marynia."

"If from a distance, then I will tell," she replied re-
luctantly. "The little lady is to play for the starving
working people and at noon goes to the rehearsals."

"Alone?"

"No, with Pani Otocka or with my mistress; but some-
times with one of us servants."

"Thank you."

"But only from a distance — do you understand, sir,
— for otherwise you will fare badly."

And after these words, which sounded like a men-
ace, she left him. The next moment Laskowicz heard
through the door Swidwicki's voice and laughter, after

WHIRLPOOLS. 283

which something resembling a scuffle, a suppressed scream,
and — the sound of hasty footsteps on the stairs ; finally
Swidwicki stumbled into the room, drunk.

"What were you doing here?" he asked.

"Nothing," answered Laskowicz.

And he began to scan the room, evidently desiring to
satisfy himself whether he could not detect some signs of
disorder, and repeated:

"Nothing!"

"I give you my word of honor," the student exclaimed
with energy.

At this Swidwicki leered at him, fingering his disheveled
beard and said:

"Then you are a fooll"

After which he flung himself upon the sofa, for he had
partaken of a sumptuous breakfast and was sleepy.

284 WHIRLPOOLS.

Ill

LASKOWTCZ'S extreme fanaticsm could not in reality harmo-
nize with the extreme cynical scepticism of Swidwicki, who
in addition took advantage of the situation not only
beyond measure, but to the point of cruelty. He himself
spoke of it and boasted about it to Gronski, when he met
him in the restaurant, to which Gronski went after Krzycki's
removal.

"I have enough of my revolutionary maggot," he said,
"I have enough of him, especially since I have satisfied
myself that personally he is honest and will not pilfer any
money from my pocket-book. From that time he has
bored me. As for harboring such a simpleton one might
go to Siberia. I regarded it in the beginning as a species
of sport. I thought I would have a permanent sensation
of a certain anxiety and, in the meantime, I have not ex-
perienced anything of the kind. The only satisfaction
which I have is to point out to him his own stupidity and
that of his party. By that I drive him to rabidness."

"But that he cares to argue with you — "

"He does not want to but is unable to restrain himself.
His temperament and fanaticism carry him away."

"At one time I met a similar individual," answered
Gronski, "and not very long ago — out in the country,
in Jastrzeb. He was a student, a tutor of Stas, whom
Krzycki later discharged because he incited the field hands
and was an agitator among peasants of the neighborhood."

"Ah," ejaculated, with a strange smile, Swidwicki, to
whom it occurred that Pauly also was at Jastrzeb.

"What? Why do .you smile?" asked Gronski.

WHIRLPOOLS. 285

"Oh, nothing. Speak further."

"I rode with him once to the city and on the way had
quite a chat with him."

"According to your habit."

"According to my habit. Now among empty phrases,
which only dull minds would accept as genuine coin, he
said some interesting things. I learned a little about the
angle from which they view the world."

"My maggot at times says interesting things. Yesterday
I led him into the admission that socialists of the pure
water regard as their greatest enemies the peasants and
the radical members of the bourgeoisie. I began to pour
oil on the fire and he unbosomed himself. An unsophisti-
cated peasant aspires to ownership, and that aspiration
the devil cannot eradicate, and as to the bourgeoisie he
spoke thus: 'What harm/ he said, 'do these few nobles
and priests who infest the world do to us ? Our enemy is
the bourgeois, rich or poor. Our enemy is the radical,
who thinks that as soon as he shouts that he does not
believe in God and priests that he buys us. Our enemy is
that boaster, who speaks in the name of the common
people and is ready to tickle us under the armpits, so that
we should smile on him. He is the one who fawns on us,
like a dog at a roll of butter, and preserves all the instincts
of a bourgeois/ And he chattered further until I said : 'Hold
on! Why, you are with the radicals "fratres Helenae!"
And he to this: 'That is not true! The radical, wealthy
bourgeois, who from fear dyes in red and borrows the
standard and methods from us, introduces confusion in
minds and drabbles in the mud our idea; and the poor
one, if he annually saves even the smallest amount, injures
us for he offers to work at a lower price than the pure
proletaire, who always is as poor as Job. We/ he said, 'will
put the knife, above all things, to the throats of the bour-
geois for latent treachery lurks in him/ Thus he chat-

286 WHIRLPOOLS.

tered and I was willing to concede justice to him, if in
general I believed in justice, but I did not concede it yet
for another reason, and that is, he is too stupid to have
reasoned out such things. It was evident that he repeated
what others taught him. In fact I did not neglect to tell
him so."

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of
Dolhanski who, observing Gronski, approached him,
although he disliked to meet Swidwicki.

"How are you?" he said, "My ladies took a trip to
Czestochowo; so I am free. Will you permit me to be
seated with you?"

"Certainly, certainly. Why, these are your last days."

"It would be worth while even for that reason to drink
a little bottle," observed Swidwicki, "particularly as it is,
besides, my birthday."

"If the calendar was a wine-cellar and the dates in
it bottles, then your birthday would occur every day,"
answered Gronski.

" I swear to you upon everything at which I jeer, that,
contrary to my habit and inclination, this time I speak the
truth."

Saying this, he nodded to the waiter and ordered him to
bring two bottles, calculating that afterwards more would
be forthcoming. In the meantime Dolhanski said :

"I met Krzycki to-day. He looks poorly; somehow
not himself, and he told me that he does not live with you
but in a hotel. Did you by chance quarrel?"

"No. But he moved away from me and Pani Krzycki
from Pani Otocka's."

"There is some kind of epidemic," exclaimed Swid-
wicki, "for my cutthroat is leaving me."

"Perhaps something has passed between Krzycki and
Miss Anney," said Dolhanski. " I supposed that they were
getting quite intimate. Did they part — or what?"

WHIRLPOOLS. 287

"A marchpane, that Englishwoman," interrupted Swid-
wicki; "but her maid has more electricity in her."

Gronski hesitated for a while ; after which he said :

"No, they have not parted, but something has occurred.
I do not know why I should make a secret of that which,
sooner or later, you will find out. It has developed that Miss
Anney is not the born, but adopted, child of the rich Eng-
lish manufacturer, lately deceased, Mr. Anney, and of his
late wife."

"Well, if the adoption gives her all the rights, and partic-
ularly the right of inheritance, is it not all the same to
Krzycki?"

"The adoption gives her all rights; nevertheless it is
not entirely the same to Krzycki, for it appears that Miss
Anney is the daughter of a blacksmith of Rzeslewo and is
named Hanka Skibianka."

"Ha!" cried Swidwicki, "Perdita has been found but
not the king's daughter. What does the pretty Florizel
say to this?"

But Dolhanski began to stare at Gronski as if he saw
him for the first time in his life.

"What are you saying?"

"The actual fact."

"Sapristi ! But that is a nursery tale. Sapristi ! You are
joking."

" I give you my word it is so. She herself told that to
Krzycki."

"I like that expression of astonishment on Dolhanski's
face," exclaimed Swidwicki. "Man, come to yourself."

Dolhanski restrained himself, for he always proclaimed
that a true gentleman never should be surprised.

"I remember now," he said, "that this is the Skibianka
to whom Uncle Zarnowski bequeathed a few thousand
roubles."

"The same."

288 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Therefore his daughter."

"Fancy to yourself otherwise. Skiba came from Galicia
to Rzeslowo with a wife and a child a few years old."

"Therefore of pure peasant blood."

"A PiastV, a Piast's," cried Swidwicki.

"Absolutely pure," answered Gronski.

"And what does Laudie say?"

"He swallowed the tidings and is trying to digest them,"
again blurted out Swidwicki.

"That substantially is the case. He found himself in
a new situation and locked himself up. It dumfounded
him a little, and he desires to come to himself."

"He was enamoured to the point of ludicrousness but
now he will probably break off."

" I do not admit that, but I repeat, that, in view of the
changed situation, he has fallen into a certain internal strife,
which he must first quell."

"I candidly confess that I would break off all relations
unconditionally."

"But if Kaska or Hanka had a hundred thousand
pounds?" asked Swidwicki.

"In such a case — I would have fallen into a strife,"
answered Dolhanski, phlegmatically.

After a while he continued :

"For it seems that it is nothing, but in life it may appear
to be something. Omitting the various cousins, 'Mats'
and 'Jacks/ who undoubtedly will be found; there
also will be found dissimilar instincts, dissimilar dis-
positions, and dissimilar tastes. Why, the deuce I I would
not want a wife who suddenly might be ruled by an un-
expected passion for amber rosaries, for shelling peas, for
swingling flax, for picking fruit, or for gathering mush-
rooms, not to say berries and nuts, and walking barefooted."

1 Piast; the name of the first King of Poland, who was a
peasant.

WHIRLPOOLS. 289

Here he turned to Gronski.

"Shrug your shoulders, but it is so."

"That would not shock me," said Swidwicki, "only, if
I were to marry Miss Anney, I would just stipulate that
she at times should go about barefooted. When I am in
the country, nothing affects me so much as the sight of
the bare feet of girls. It is true that they often have ery-
sipelas about the ankles, which comes from the prickle
of the stubblefields. But I assume that Miss Anney has
not got erysipelas."

"One cannot talk with you in a dignified manner."

"Why?" replied Swidwicki. "Let Krzycki now
clip coupons from his dignity but not we. Did you say
that he belongs to the National Democrats ? "

" No, not I. But what connection has that with Miss
Anney?"

"Oh, — oh, a nobleman — a National Democrat — has
found out that his flame has peasant blood in her veins and
nevertheless his belly on that account has begun to ache;
nevertheless, he is stung by that deminutio capitis."

"Who told you that? Besides, it should be permutatio,
not deminutio."

"Yes ! The English wares take on the appearance of a
domestic product and fall in value. Justly, justly."

"Do you know who could with perfect independence
enter into a marriage under such conditions?" asked
Dolhanski. "A truly great gentlemen."

"But not Polish," exclaimed Swidwicki.

"There you are already beginning! Why not Polish?"

"Because a Polish gentleman has not sufficient faith in
his own blood; he plainly has not sufficient pride to be-
lieve that he will elevate a woman to himself and not
lower himself to her."

Gronski began to laugh:

"I did not expect that charge from your lips," he said.
19

290 WHIRLPOOLS.

"Why? I am an individualist, and in so far as I do not
regard myself as a specimen of the basest race, so far do
I regard myself as a specimen of the best. According
to me one belongs to the aristocracy only through lucky
chance ; that is, when one brings into the world a suitable
profile and corresponding brain. But Dolhanski, for
instance, in so far as he has not purchased portraits of an-
cestors at an auction — and our other gentlemen — judge
that blood constitutes that appurtenance. Now granting
these premises, I contend that our tones do not know how
to be proud of their blood.^

"At home," said Gronski, "you vent your spleen upon
the socialists, and here you wish to vent it upon the aris-
tocracy."

"That does not diminish my merits. I have a few pretty
remarks for the National Democracy."

"I know, I know. But how will you prove that which
you said about the Polish tones ?"

"How will I prove it? By the Socratic method —
with the aid of questions. Did you ever observe when a
Polish gentleman abroad becomes acquainted with a
Frenchman or Englishman ? I, while I had money, passed
winters in Nice or in Cairo and saw a number of them. Now,
every time I propounded to myself the question which now
I put to you: why the devil it is not the Frenchman or
Englishman who tries to please the Pole, but the Pole
them ? Why is it that only the Pole fawns, only the Pole
coquets ? Because he is almost ashamed of his descent ; and
if by chance a Frenchman tells him that from his accent he
took him for a Frenchman, or an Englishman takes him
for an Englishman, then he melts with joy, like butter in a
frying-pan I Ah, I have seen such coquettes by the score
— and it is an old story. Such coquetry, for instance,
Stanislaus Augustus1 possessed. At home, the Polish

1 Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski, the last king of Poland.

WHIRLPOOLS. 291

gentleman at times knows how to hold his nose high.
Before a foreigner he is on both paws. Is not that a lack
of pride in his own race, in his own blood, in his own tradi-
tions ? If you have the slightest grain of a sense of justice,
even though no larger than the grain of caviar, you must
admit the justice of my remarks. As to myself, I have been
ashamed sometimes that I am a Pole."

" That means that you committed the same sin with which
you charge others," replied Gronski. "If the tips of the
wings of our eagle reached both seas, as at one time they
did, perhaps Poles might be different. But at present —
tell me — of what are they to be proud?"

"You are twisting things. I am speaking of racial
pride only, not political," answered Swidwicki. "After all,
may the devils take thjem. I prefer to drink."

"Say what you will," asserted Dolhanski, "but I will
merely tell you this: if internal affairs were exclusively
in their hands, some fooleries might take place, but we
would not be fried in the sauce in which we are fried
to-day."

Swidwicki turned to him with eyes glistening already
a little abnormally.

"My dear sir," he said, "in order to govern a country it
is necessary to have one of three things : either the greatest
number, which the canaille has behind it — I beg pardon,
I should have said the Democracy — or the greatest sound
sense, which nobody amongst us possesses, or the most
money, which the Jews have. And as I have demonstrated
that our great gentlemen do not even have any sentiment
of traditions, therefore what have they?"

"At least good manners, which you lack," retorted
Dolhanski with aversion.

" No. I will tell you what they have — if not all of them,
then the second or third one: but I will tell it to you in a
whisper, so as not to shock Gronski's virgin ears."

292 WHIRLPOOL.

And leaning over to Dolhanski, he whispered a word to
him, after which he snorted, maliciously :

"I do not say that that is nothing, but it is not sufficient
to govern the country with."

But Dolhanski frowned and said:

"If that is so, then you surely belong to the highest
aristocracy."

" Of course I certainly ! I have a diploma certified a few
years ago in Aix-la-chapelle, the place of the coronation I"

Saying this, he again quaffed his wine and continued with
a kind of feverish gayety: *

"Ah, permit me to rail, permit me to scoff at men and
things ! I always do that internally but at times I must
expectorate the gall. Permit me! For after all, I am a
Pole, and for a Pole there perhaps cannot be a greater
pleasure than defacing, belittling, pecking at, calumniat-
ing, spitting on, and pulling down statues from the pedestals.
Republican tradition, is it not? In addition Providence
so happily arranged it that a Pole loves that the most, and
when he himself is concerned, he feels it most acutely.
A delightful society!"

"You are mistaken," replied Gronski, "for in that re-
spect we have changed prodigiously and in proof of it, I
will cite one instance: When the painter Limiatycki re-
ceived for his ' Golgotha * a grand medal in Paris, all the
local little brushes at once fumed at him. So meeting
him, I asked him whether he intended to retaliate, and he
replied to me with the greatest serenity : ' I am serving my
fatherland and art, but only stupidity cannot understand
that, while only turpitude will not understand it.' And
he was right, for whoever has any kind of wings at his
shoulders and can raise himself a little in the air, need not
pay attention to the mud of the streets."

"Tut, tut; mud is a purely native product, the same as
other symptoms of your national culture, namely: filth,

WHIRLPOOLS. 293

scandals, envy, folly, indolence, big words and little deeds,
cheap politics, brawling, a relish for mass-meetings, bandit-
ism, revolvers, and bombs; if I wanted to mention every-
thing I would not finish until late at night."

"Then I will throw in for you a few more things," said
Gronski; "drunkenness, cynicism, a stupid pose of despair,
thoughtless hypercriticism, scoffing at misfortune, fouling
one's own nest, spitting at blood and suffering, undermining
faith in the future, and blasphemy against the nation.
Have you yet enough?"

"I have not enough of wine. Order some more, order
some more!"

"I will not order any more wine, but I will tell yet more,
that you err in claiming that these are native products.
They are brought by a certain wind which evidently has
fanned you."

But Swidwicki, who this time had no desire to quarrel
but did have a desire to drink, evidently wishing to change
the subject of the conversation, unexpectedly exclaimed:

"Apropos of winds, what a pity that such sensible people
as the Prussians commit one gross blunder."

Gronski, who had already risen to bid him farewell, was
overcome temporarily by curiosity.

"What blunder?" he asked.

"That they assume super-villeiny to be superhumanity."

" In this you are right."

"I feel a contempt for myself as often as I am right."

"Then we will leave you with your wine and your con-
tempt."

Saying this, Gronski nodded to Dolhanski and they de-
parted. Swidwicki' s last words, however, caused him to
reflect; so after a while he said:

" Now people's minds are haunted by the Prussians and
they are reminded of them by the slightest cause. After
all, Swidwicki's description of them was apposite."

294 WHIRLPOOLS.

"If you knew how little I am interested in Swidwicki's
descriptions."

"Nevertheless, you vie with him and talk in a similar
strain/* answered Gronski.

After which, pursuing further the train of his thoughts,
he said:

"Nietzsche also did not perceive that the susceptibility
and appreciation of other people's woes becomes mani-
fest only upon the culmination of the creative. . ."

"Good, good, but at this moment I am more interested
in what Krzycki is going to, do about Miss Anney."

Dolhanski, who could not endure Swidwicki, would
have been sorely afflicted, if he had suspected that the
same question occurred to the latter's mind.

Remaining alone, Swidwicki recalled Gronski's recital
and began to laugh, as the thought of such unusual com-
plications amused him immensely. He imagined to him-
self what excitement must have prevailed at Krzycki's
and at Pani Otocka's, and how far the affair would agitate
the circles of their relatives and acquaintances. And sud-
denly he began to soliloquize in the following manner:

"And if I paid Miss Anney a visit? It even behooves
me to leave her a card. That would be eminently proper.
I may not find her in — that does not matter much, but
if I should find her in, I will try to see whether her legs are
not too bulky at the ankles. For culture, education, even
polish may be acquired, but delicate ligaments of the legs
and hands it is necessary to inherit through a whole series
of generations. That furious Pauly, nevertheless, has a
sufficiently thin ligature. The devil, however, knows who
her father was. I will go. If I do not find one, I shall
find the other."

And he went. He was admitted not by the man-servant
but by Pauly; so he smiled at her in his most ingratiating
manner and said :

WHIRLPOOLS. 295

"Good-day, pretty fennel-flower! Is Panna Hanka
Skibianka at home?"

"What Hanka Skibianka?" she asked in surprise.

"Then, the little lady does not know the great tidings?"

'What great tidings? I do not know any."

"That the mistress of the little lady is not named Miss
Anney?"

"Do not upset our heads."

"I give the little lady my word of honor. Ask Pan
Gronski, or Pan Krzycki, who is chewing off his fingers
from mortification. I give you my word of honor. I also
could tell you more, but if the little lady is not curious I
will go. Here is my card for Panna Ski-bian-ka."

The eyes of the girl sparkled with curiosity. She took
the card mechanically.

" I do not say that you should go, but I do not believe,"
she said hurriedly.

"And I know yet more."

"What is it?"

"I will whisper it in your ear."

It did not occur to Pauly that there was no necessity
for Swidwicki speaking in a whisper. She leaned towards
him with a palpitating heart and, though he flooded her
with his breath, saturated with the odor of wine, she did
not withdraw her head.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"That Panna Skibianka is a peasant woman from
Zarnow I"

"That is untrue!"

"As I love God."

And, saying this, he suddenly smacked her ear with a
broad kiss.

296 WHIRLPOOLS.

IV

Miss ANNEY'S letter bore the impress of extraordinary
simplicity. At the beginning she said that from the mo-
ment when he proposed for her hand she was compelled
to reveal her former name; while in the continuation it
contained an equally simgje account of herself and her
family from the time of their departure from Rzeslewo.
This sad course of events she related in the following
words:

"My father came from Galicia and had in America
relatives of whom he heard that through labor they had
amassed fortunes. Learning of this, he decided to settle
there also and seek his fortune beyond the ocean. We left
Rzeslewo at a time when you were in Warsaw. I knew
how to write as I was taught that in the manor-house, and
would have informed you about this if I had known your
address. We went, not saying anything to anybody, to
Hamburg, and at that place there occurred what often
happens to peasant emigrants. The agent tricked us, de-
frauded us of our money, and placed us on a vessel bound
not for America but for England. Thrown upon the pave-
ments of London, we soon fell into dire want. For the
passage to America there now was no means. My mother
died of typhoid fever in a hospital and father, from de-
spair and nostalgia, declined rapidly in health. Under
these circumstances we were found by Mr. Anney, one of
the best and noblest men in the world, a friend and patron
of the Poles, who gave us employment. But the succor
came too late, and my father died in the course of a year.
I remained in the factory and worked in it until the acci-

WHIRLPOOLS. 297

dent which changed my status entirely. The Anney
family had only one child, a daughter, whom they loved
beyond everything in the world and surrounded with a
solicitude all the greater because she was threatened by a
pulmonary ailment. Once it happened that Miss Anney,
while visiting the factory, was almost carried away by the
driving-wheel of the machinery. I rushed to her assistance,
imperilling a little my own life, and from that time the
gratitude of the Anney family for me had no bounds.
They took me from the factory to themselves, and in this
manner I became the companion and afterwards the bosom
friend of their daughter. A Pole, an emigrant of the year
'63, a friend of Mr. Anney and a man well educated,
taught us both, and me, separately, in Polish. I endeavored
to benefit, as much as lay in my power, from these lessons,
and after two years was able to approach a little the intel-
lectual plane of my friend and my environment. But
Agnes — for such was the Christian name of Miss Anney
— began to fail in her health. Then Mr. Anney sold his
factory and we all, including our instructor, removed to
Italy. There about three years were passed in a search for
the best climate for our dearest patient. All efforts proved
unavailing, however, as God took His angel unto Himself.
After Agnes' death, the Anneys, remembering that I loved
with my whole soul our dead one, adopted me as their own
child and gave me not only their family name, but desir-
ing to overcome their despair, suffering, and sorrow, even
the Christian name of the deceased. Nevertheless, the
sorrow could not be overcome, and though I tried with my
whole heart to be to them some sort of comfort in life, in
the course of two years both followed their greatest love.

"And this is the end of my history. And after that came
those events which brought me nearer to you; therefore I
desire to justify my conduct in your eyes. I have a right to
the name which I bear, and my life from the time of the

298 WHIRLPOOLS.

departure from Rzeslewo has been pure. Conscience re-
proaches me with only one new error. This was that I did
not confess to the Anneys that I already was unworthy of
their care. But for such a confession I lacked strength. I
loved too much my Agnes and feared that they would
separate me from her. Later I did not want to add to
their affliction. I did not have the strength. At times,
also, I think that now when they look upon me from heaven
and see everything, they forgive me for keeping that se-
cret. Beyond this I once more repeat and swear that my
life has been pure. But iiyny memory I have only coffins
and coffins, and of my Rzeslewo days there remains to
me only the recollection of you. I could not forget either
my sin or my happiness. Often during the life of my
adopted sister, while gazing into her chaste eyes, I strug-
gled with remorse, and at the same time I wept from in-
tense longing. After that, being left alone in the world, I
had nothing to cherish in my heart, and I began to yearn
yet more. When, after the death of the Anneys, I became
acquainted and grew intimate with Zosia Otocka in Brus-
sels, I accidentally learned from a conversation that she was
your relative. Then I related to her my entire life, not
concealing anything, and she not only did not spurn me,
but loved me yet more. Emboldened by her goodness, I
confessed to her my longing for the old days and Rzes-
lewo. Perhaps it may be a new fault on my part that I
confided to Zosia my insurmountable desire of seeing yet
once more in my life, Jastrzeb, Rzeslewo, and — why
should I not state the whole truth ? — and you. Then Zosia
said to me: 'I understand you; ride with me to Jastrzeb
as Miss Anney, as you cannot do otherwise. Nobody
will recognize you and you will take a reckoning with your
own heart. Perhaps reality may extinguish the rainbow
of recollections. If they are assuaged forever, so much
the better for you; if he should fall in love with you, so

WHIRLPOOLS. 299

much the worse for him ; if your former echoes reawaken,
then we will assume that this was predestination/ Such
was Zosia's advice, and for that reason, when your mother
invited her and Marynia, I also accompanied them to
Jastrzeb. But I do not wish to pass for any better than I
am. I confess hat on the road I always had in mind
Zosia's words : ' If he falls in love with you, so much the
worse for him/ and I wished that to happen. I was cer-
tain that you had entirely forgotten me, and I thought that
if now you fell in love with me without any requital, that
it would be a sort of condign punishment for your forget-
fulness and a kind of triumph for myself and — if not such
a womanly revenge as books tell of, — at least a great
solace to my self-love. But it happened otherwise, for I
forgot to take into account that I had a heart, not of for-
eign books, but of a Polish village — simple and faithful.
When I saw Rzeslewo, Jastrzeb, and you, I wanted only
to weep and weep, as I wept at Pan Zarnowski's funeral,
and I discovered within me that Hanka, who years
before loved you with her first childish love and after-
wards with such affection, did not love any one else. You
know, sir, what happened further. If you do not return,
I will not bear any resentment towards you, but do not
harbor any ill-will against me. I, too, merely skirted along
the rim of happiness."

The signature was "Hanka." Ladislaus* chin quivered
from time to time while he was reading the letter and his
eyes grew dim. He began to repeat the signature " Hanka,
Hanka." He rose abruptly and paced over the room with big
steps. His thoughts rolled into a ball in his head like clouds
in the heavens ; they collected and scattered in all directions
like a startled stud of horses on the wild steppes of the
Ukraine. He read the letter a second and third time,
and under its influence there began to glide before his
eyes pictures of the past as distinct as if all that which

300 WHIRLPOOLS.

occurred some time ago had happened but yesterday. He
recalled those bright moonlight nights when he stole away
to the mill, and that village girl, fragrant with the hay, who,
to the question of whether she loved him, whispered in reply,
" Of course," and threw her yet half-childish arms around
his neck and hugged him to her breast with such strength
that no other love could make a sincerer avowal. He
recollected that he nevertheless loved her at that time,
and when he missecl her, longed for her, and even inquired
of the people about the blacksmith's family — but with
reserve and faint-heartedly, as fear closed his lips.

Subsequently that girl was erased from his memory so
completely that even the light pangs of conscience which he
felt on her account vanished; nothing remained. It was
well with him in the world and he sought new sensations,
while she was seized by the whirlwind of life and was
hurled like a wretched leaf upon a foreign land, where she
suffered from sheer starvation. Nevertheless, neither at
that time, nor later, when good people took care of her,
did she forget him nor did she cease to long for him. Lad-
islaus was not a deep connoisseur of the human soul ; he
felt, nevertheless, that what for him was simply a love ad-
venture, a shallow enjoyment of the senses, a transient
impression which disperses to the winds like the fragrance
of flowers, for her became a new life; a surrender of her
whole being and whole soul, too pure and too noble for
her to seek a new happiness upon new paths. And now
he understood why that coveted Miss Anney of to-day,
charming as a dream, brilliant, surrounded by affluence
and arousing admiration, wrote to him that she had a
heart not of foreign books but of a Polish village — simple
and faithful. He understood also why the letter was signed
"Hanka." Suddenly and irrevocably were banished all
his suspicions, and her words, "my life from the moment of
the departure from Rzeslewo has been pure," touched

WHIRLPOOLS. 301

him to the extent that he began to upbraid himself that he
should for a moment have thought that it could have been
otherwise. At once he seemed to himself to be little, mean,
and unworthy of that noble and exalted soul. But through
his heart and head there coursed during the last moments
so many thoughts, impressions, and feelings that he was
uncertain whether the final sensibility of his own short-
comings and wretchedness would be lasting. Neverthe-
less, he was seized with an ever-increasing tenderness, and
more and more became obliterated that difference between
Hanka and Miss Anney which was so irritating to him in
the first moments. Now, on the contrary, the recollection
that this simple girl of old and that fascinating lady of
to-day were one and the same woman penetrated him with
a kind of thrill, resembling a thrill of joy. The memory
that at one time he possessed the other began to waken
in him, as it were, a hunger and a new passion for the present
one, and the thought of her charms intensified the play of
his young blood. But he strove to stifle within him those
impressions with the consciousness of the responsibilities
which were imposed upon him. Above all things he pro-
pounded to himself the question, What should a man of
honor do who had betrayed and therefore wronged a girl,
almost a child, who was in love with him, and later, after
a few years, met her under a changed name and fell in
love with her? There was only one answer; even if he
did not fall in love, if her love continued, he ought to as-
sume all the consequences of his acts. If she remained a
simple-minded rustic who never could understand him,
or if she had deviated from the path of rectitude, even in
such a case, it would not, for his vexed soul, be sufficient
reason for washing his hands and withdrawing from the
affair; and so much the more, since the girl had bridged
the intellectual and social chasm which separated them,
and in addition ennobled her own soul and had not ceased

302 WHIRLPOOLS.

to love. " Yes it is so. I would spit in my own eyes,"
said Ladislaus (not thinking at that moment that in prac-
tice an act like that would be a trifle difficult to per-
form), "if I hesitated any longer. There is only one
thing to do and I will do that at once." Having formed
this resolution, he took a deep breath like a man, from
whose heart a heavy load has fallen — and as much as he
at first became little in his own eyes, so now he began to
gain in stature. He did not, however, propound the ques-
tion, what would happen if Miss Anney did not have such
wondrous eyes, gazing with a heavenly streak, nor such a
countenance, whose color reminded him of the petals of a
white rose, nor those other charms which attracted his
eyes. He said to himself that many of his acquaintances
could not afford to form a similar resolution; he was
pleased with himself ; and that it was easier for him to do
so because he was impelled thereto by his heart and
senses, he deemed not as lessening the worthiness of the
act itself, but as his own good fortune. He foresaw, how-
ever, that he would yet have to do with his mother as well
as with the so called opinion of society, which is not con-
cerned about principles but only about gossip, and which
seeks, above all things, food for its own stupid malice.
But he expected to reconcile his mother, and as to the
malicious, smiling ironically upon the slightest provoca-
tion, his nostrils, distended at the very thought, and his
clenched teeth boded them no good. But this anticipated
knightly action was a matter of the future; in the mean-
time his impetuous nature urged him to immediate action.
He determined to go to his mother at once and definitely
come to an understanding with her. Glancing, however,
at his watch, he became aware of the fact that it was al-
most three o'clock in the morning. In view of this, that was
impossible. Not feeling, however, the least need of sleep,
and desiring absolutely to do something, he sat down to

WHIRLPOOLS. 303

write letters. First, he inclosed Miss Anney's letter in an
envelope, because he wanted to send it to his mother before
the decisive interview took place ; after which he started to
write to Miss Anney, but soon stopped, as it occurred to
him that since he gave his word that he would remain
silent for a week, he did not have the right to do it. In-
stead, after a brief deliberation, he wrote a few words to
Pani Otocka, praying that she would permit him to visit
her that day.

Finally, when the dawn began to peer into the room and
mingle with the light of the lamps, he thought of repose, but
though he felt great weariness, he could not fall asleep,
and mentally he conversed with his mother and Miss
Anney until sunrise. He fell into a sound slumber only
when the morning bustle in the hotel began and did not
awake until late. Dressing himself, he rang for the servant
and ordered him to deliver Miss Anney's letter to his
mother, but at the last minute he made up his mind to
take it to her himself. But in the rooms engaged by his
mother he found only the younger members of the family
and the French governess, who informed him that "ma-
dame" went to church early in the morning.

304 WHIRLPOOLS.

PANT KRZYCKI had indeed gone to church and confession,
for in the grief which befell her, she needed consolation
and advice. And her grief was real and profound. She
lived in times in which various ancient prejudices and
prepossessions clashed, and were becoming more and
more obliterated, yielding place to new democratic ideas.
As she often heard that the wave of these new ideas might
bring benefit and salvation to the country, she, notwith-
standing that her habits and former conceptions conflicted
with them, not only did not struggle against them, but
quietly acquiesced in them in a passive manner. This
was easier for her as it never occurred to her that person-
ally she would ever have anything to do with them. For
her it was the same as if somebody had installed modern
furniture in a few rooms in Jastrzeb, which were not con-
tinually occupied. Let them stay there since fashion
requires it and since in the other rooms there are old arm-
chairs, heirlooms, in which one can rest comfortably. And
now, suddenly she was ordered to move to that new part
of the house ; suddenly she was confronted by the fact that
her son was in love with a peasant woman from Rzeslewo
and was about to marry her. Then in the first moments
everything within her was stirred up; the old instincts
and customs began to cry out. That silent and passive
acquiescence in the new ideas crumbled like a building of
sand, and the whole course of events appeared to the indig-
nant citizeness-noblewoman as an unworthy intrigue in
which the victim to be sported with was her son and with
him, the entire Krzycki family. Amazement that the chief

WHIRLPOOLS. 305

partner and almost author of this intrigue could be a
being whom she regarded as the incarnation of all feminine
virtues, and whom she desired her son should marry, only
aggravated her anger. In vain did Zosia explain to her
that her son was the betrayer of an innocent child and Miss
Anney was an angel, and that in bringing her to Jastrzeb,
she did not have any sinister designs and did only that
which every other woman in her place, sympathizing with
a wronged and longing woman, would have done. " If the
most fervent wish of Miss Anney was to behold once more
in her life the place in which her life was undone, and the
man whom she could not forget and who was the author
of her undoing, then it was due to her; and everybody
who has the slightest heart ought to understand this.
And let Aunt say," she continued, "whether I could betray
her secret and whether an impossible situation would not
have been created for her." The usually quiet and gentle
Zosia became so wrought up in defence of her friend that
she plainly told Pani Krzycki that even if Laudie fell in love
with Miss Anney without any requital that it would be
only what he deserved and, besides, since "Aninka" did
not accept his proposal and gave him a week's time for
consideration, he could withdraw it ; in such case, however,
"Aninka" would not be the only one whose respect he
forfeited. But all this was pouring oil upon fire and only
increased the ire of Pani Krzycki who declared that, at any
rate, she and her son were victims of a plot. After which
she moved to a hotel, announcing at the time of her depar-
ture that her feet would never again cross the threshold of
that house.

Nevertheless, the bitterness and anger which accumu-
lated in her heart were not directed against Pani Otocka
alone. Her son also had wounded her heart deeply and
awakened a whole series of painful recollections, connected
with the memory of her husband. For her husband, a man

20

306 WHIRLPOOLS.

worshipped by her during the first years of their marital
life for his manifold good qualities and extraordinary
beauty, had caused her not a little mortification through
his immoral life in relation to women in general and the
female residents of Jastrzeb and its vicinity in particular.
To Pani Krzycki it was no secret, that, in the course of
long years, cows were led continually from the manor
cow-houses as gifts or rather as rewards to various Kates
and Marys and that in Jastrzeb could be found quite a
number of step-brothers and step-sisters of her children.
So she shed copious tears over this state of affairs until
almost the last year of her Husband's life. In her time she
suffered in her own self-love and her womanly dignity as
a wife and mother. Afterwards she forgave everything,
but after the death of her husband, as a woman deeply
religious, she lived in continual fear at the thought of the
Divine Tribunal, before which the deceased appeared. For
whole years she tried to supplicate for him forgiveness
through tears, fasts, alms, and prayers. Above all she
determined to bring up her son in such a manner that he
would never fall into the errors of his father. She watched
him in his boyhood days, like the eye in her head; she
shielded him from all evil influences. After sending him
to school she confided the care of him to her relative, a
priest, and to Gronski, in whose morality she justly be-
lieved. And when the son grew up, when after finishing
school, he attended the university, and afterwards assumed
the management of the Jastrzeb estate, she had that
bottomless, naive faith, usual with women, upright and
pious but unacquainted with the depravity of the world,
that up to that time "Laudie" was as pure as a lily. And
now unexpectedly the film over her eyes dropped. The
son was following in the footsteps of his father. At this
thought she was beset by despair. In her soul a protest
truly vehement poured forth against the alliance of her son

WHIRLPOOLS. 307

with a peasant woman, but having a very sensitive con-
science she felt, after her conversation with Zosia, that Miss
Anney had some claim on Ladislaus. Once or twice, this
manner of extricating themselves from an onerous situa-
tion suggested itself to her mind ; that Ladislaus in pursu-
ance of a prearranged compact should propose to Miss Anney
and she should refuse him. "But do I know," she said to
herself, " how many similar Hankas may already be found
in Jastrzeb ? " And a horror penetrated to the marrow of
her bones at the thought that among those Hankas might
be Ladislaus' step-sisters, for it seemed to her that the crimes
of the father fatally dragged after them the yet greater
crimes of the son and with them must follow damnation.
"Ah, Laudie ! ah, Laudie!" she repeated despondently,
and she felt besides fear, such pain, such disappointment
of heart and such profound resentment, that however much
she understood that it was necessary to summon Ladislaus
as soon as possible and ascertain how he had received the
news that Miss Anney is Hanka' and what he intended
to do, nevertheless she could not persuade herself to see
him at once. After removing from Pani Otocka's, the in-
formation that he was not at the hotel afforded her true
relief. She immediately locked herself up in her room and
determined, if he called, not to admit him.

The following morning she went to church and to con-
fession and after confession she begged her relative, the
prelate, the same who in his time had charge of Ladislaus,
for advice. Already she was calmer. The aged prelate
received her and began with extraordinary particularity
to question her about Miss Anney, her stay at Jastrzeb,
about the course of events after the attempt on Ladislaus'
life, and about the details in Hanka' s life, of which Pani
Krzycki had learned from Zosia: afterwards about the
fears of Pani Krzycki herself, and finally after a long
silence he said :

308 WHIRLPOOLS.

"As to the sins, which Ladislaus, after this, the first sin
of his youth, might have committed, that is only a con-
jecture, and a fear, and as we have no irrefutable proofs
of them, we should not take them into account at all.
There only remains the former Hanka and the Miss
Anney of to-day. It is only with this one case that we
have to do. So I desire to know how you, as a mother,
regard her."

Pani Krzycki replied that she knew perfectly well that
all people in the sight of God were equal, but she was
concerned about the happiness of her son. Similar mar-
riages were not usually happy. It may be that the reason
for this is the malice of the world : it may be that the wife
met with humiliation on the part of vain and malicious
persons, but the husband must feel that also, in conse-
quence of which irritation ensues and the relations grow
from bad to worse even without any ill-will on either side.
As to her son he is ambitious and sensitive as but few are,
and even if he loved his wife most strongly, he would
suffer if any one evinced towards her even a shade of dis-
dain. Whoever lives in the world must reckon with every-
thing, even with stupidity, even with malice, not to say
with other considerations upon which marital happiness
often depends.

The aged prelate listened, folding and unfolding accord-
ing to his habit a silk handkerchief, and finally said :

"Reckoning with stupidity and malice may only mean
guarding against them, not making any concessions to
them."

After which he began to look at Pani Krzycki with a
penetrating gaze and asked:

"Permit me to put one question to you: Why should
your son necessarily be happy?"

She looked at him with surprise.

"Why, I am his mother."

WHIRLPOOLS. 309

"Yes, but there are things more important than happi-
ness, particularly temporal, — is it not true?"

"True," she answered quietly.

"That which you said in respect to temporal matters
may be more or less just and may actually be the reasons
which make such marriages less happy than others, but
it is necessary above all things to propound to one's self the
question, What in life is greater and what is less, what is
more important and what is less important, and to act ac-
cording to the dictates of conscience."

"Well, how am I to act? " asked Pani Krzycki.

The aged prelate looked at the crucifix hanging on the
wall and quietly, but with emphasis, answered:

"As a Christian."

A momentary silence followed.

"I am satisfied with the advice," said Pani Krzycki,
"and I thank you."

310 WHIRLPOOL.

VI

LADISLAUS, while his mother was in church and consulting
the prelate, repaired, notwithstanding the early hour, to
Pani Otocka. At the very beginning he raised to his lips
both of her hands and kis»ed them so long that she, from
that act alone, perceived his intentions.

"I knew it would be so! I knew it!" she cried with
emotion and joy.

While he replied in a soft quivering voice :

"I did not require a week to perceive that I cannot live
without her."

"I knew it," Zosia once more repeated. "Have you
spoken with your mother, yet?"

"No. Yesterday, I ran about the city senselessly, after
which I rushed to Gronski's and went to the hotel very
late, and this morning I was informed that Mother was in
church."

Pani Otocka again became anxious.

"Yesterday," she said, "she was very angry and God
grant that she may be reconciled, for on this all depends."

"Not all," answered Ladislaus; "not to speak of my
great attachment for Mother, I esteem her immensely ; and
God sees that I would be pleased always to conform to her
will. But that has its limits; when the happiness, not
only of myself, but of the being most precious to me in the
world, is concerned, then I cannot sacrifice that under any
circumstances ; I have pondered over this all night. I have
a hope that Mother will consent ; as I trust in her character
and in that love which she has always shown to me. If, how-

WHIRLPOOLS. 311

ever, contrary to my hopes, it should appear otherwise,
then I will tell her that this is a resolution which cannot
now be and will not be revoked."

"Maybe there is no necessity for that," said Pani Otocka,
"for Aninka also is concerned. Yesterday, after the letter
which she wrote to you and after Pan Gronski's departure,
we talked until late at night. She was very nervous and
cried, but spoke thus: 'If he returns to me, not joyfully
and with entire good-will, but only because he did not want
to withdraw his word, then I will never consent to it. There
is no pride in me. I did not even reckon with my own self-
love, and wrote to him sincerely what was in my heart,
but even if it should break I would not wed him, if it shall
seem to him that he is lowering himself for me/ "

"The dear, lovely creature!" interrupted Ladislaus.

Pani Otocka continued:

"After that she began to cry, and added that she would
not consent to be the cause of an estrangement between
mother and son."

"No, I repeat once more that my resolution cannot
and shall not be revoked. Here my whole life is involved —
and even if now Mother cannot find in her heart sufficient
good-will, she will find it later. In the meantime I will do
everything in order that my future wife should have in her
also a mother, affectionate and grateful for her son's
happiness."

" Can I repeat that to Miss Anney ?"

"That is just what I came for. But I have yet one more
prayer. She took my word that for a week I would not
return to her and she alone can release me from it. But
in view of what I came here for, this would be downright,
needless torture. Neither a week nor a year can change
anything. Nothing, absolutely I Will Cousin deign to tell
her that and beg of her from me, but beg very cordially,
that she release me from my word?"

312 WHIRLPOOLS.

"With the greatest pleasure, and I have a hope this will
not be a too difficult matter to adjust."

"I thank you with my whole soul and now I will hurry
to Mother."

But before he left the room, Marynia rushed in and be-
gan to gaze sharply, now at her sister, then at Ladislaus.
In reality she was not apprized of the secrets of the former
relations between Ladislaus and Hanka, but she already
knew that Miss Anney is the former Hanka; she knew
everything which transpired afterwards and, loving Miss
Anney very much, she was dying from uneasiness and
curiosity as to what turn the affair would take. She was
so pretty with that wistful gaze and uneasy face and, be-
sides, she had such an amusing mien that Ladislaus, in
spite of his emotions, at the sight of her, fell into a good
humor. Zosia remained silent, not knowing whether he
wished to speak of his affair of the heart before Marynia,
while he, purposely, for sometime did not break the silence ;
finally he approached his little cousin and squeezing her
hand, announced in a sepulchral voice :

"Too late!"

"How too late," she asked alarmed.

"She is going to marry some one else."

"Who?"

"Panna — Kajetana"

And he burst out into a sincere, jolly laugh. Marynia
conjectured that matters could not stand so badly since
Ladislaus was jesting. Desiring, however, to learn fully
the good news, she began to stamp with her foot and im-
portune like a child.

"But how ? — now, honestly. I could not sleep to-day I
How? now, honestly. How?"

"Honestly, that hope and joy and happiness — there!"
answered Ladislaus, pointing in the direction of Miss
Anney's quarters.

WHIRLPOOLS. 313

After which, kissing his cousins' hands, he rushed out
like a stone whirled from a sling, for he was in a great
hurry.

On the way he grew grave and even gloomy at the thought
that the moment for his decisive interview with his mother
was approaching.

He found her in the hotel, where she awaited him in her
own room. The sight of his mother's face, serene and
filled with an unusual kind of sweetness, gave him, for the
time being, encouragement, but at the same time he thought
that gentle persuasion, entreaties, and perhaps tears, would
be heavier to bear than anger — and he asked in an uncer-
tain voice:

"Did Mamma read her letter?"

"I did," she answered, "but even before that I learned
almost everything from Zosia, whom Miss Anney herself
begged not to conceal anything from me."

" Gronski told me that Mamma became angry at Zosia ?"

"Yes, that is so, but that can be rectified. Now I want
above all things to talk with you sincerely."

So Ladislaus began to narrate how in the first moments
he was struck as if by a thunderbolt and how he could not
reconcile himself to the thought that Hanka and Miss
Anney were one and the same person. He confessed his
vacillation, his doubts, suspicions, and the pain, which
pierced him; and the internal strife and accounting with
his conscience and everything through which he passed.
But only after reading her letter, did he perceive that this
pain had its origin in his love for her and that the struggle
was a struggle with his own heart and happiness ; then he
ceased to waver; he could not imagine happiness other-
wise than with that most precious being in the world, and
without her he did not desire it.

After which he said that when he became acquainted
with her at Jastrzeb, as Miss Anney, from almost the first

314 WHIRLPOOLS.

moment he was attracted to her by some incomprehensible
force and she engrossed all his thoughts. He, of course,
esteemed Zosia Otocka highly, and Marynia he regarded
as a bright phenomenon. But admiration and love are
two different things. Besides, he did not owe anything
either to Zosia or to Marynia. They were kind while he
was wounded and that was all. But to Miss Anney he
probably owed his life, and he remembered that she for
his sake placed herself in peril. With what could he repay
her for that, and how could he make reparation for the
former wrong, committed while she was still almost a child ?
Who was the worthier of the two ? Was it he, who forgot
and lived from day to day an easy, thoughtless, and spiritu-
ally slothful life, or she whom no new attachments could
reconcile to their separation and who ennobled her mind
and heart through suffering, yearning, and labor? "I
scarcely dare to believe, Mother," said he, "that she not
only absolves my injury, but has not ceased to love me.
Perhaps it happened thus, because it was I who, for the
first time in her life opened for her the doors to the world
of happiness, but undoubtedly it was because hers is a
totally exceptional nature. Yes, Mother ! She is one of
those who, in a pristine state even at the time when they
are unable to realize things, possess that noble instinct,
that sort of elevation of feeling that love ennobles indeed
everything, but only when it is great, when it is for a whole
lifetime; and those who love have such strength, such
a depth of affection, that they are incapable of any other
affection. But when such a one is found, then we can only
thank God on our knees, and, in plain terms, my head is
confused at the thought that for my transgression I meet
with, not punishment, but fabulously good fortune. It
may be that there are in the world more such women who
can make a man happy, but I want to be happy only with
this one ; maybe there are others who ennoble and elevate

WHIRLPOOLS. 315

everything about them, but I feel that through this one I
will be better and better. Finally, this is a question not
only of my happiness but also of my honor."

Here, folding his hands, he began to gaze into her eyes
with a pleading look ; after which he continued :

"All this I intrust to Mamma's hands; my whole life,
my entire future, and the peace of my conscience, and
happiness and honor."

Pani Krzycki placed both of his palms to her temples
and kissed his forehead.

"My Laudie," she said, "I am an old woman and have
various prejudices : so I will not tell you that from the first
moments it was easy for me to assent to your intentions.
Do you know that yesterday I became enraged at Zosia
and until this morning, I persisted in my determination to
oppose as far as it lay in my power your marriage. Be
not surprised at this, since you admit that you were struck
as if by lightning; then think, how it must have affected
me. I, as is usual with a mother, had at the bottom of
my soul the conviction that for you even a king's daughter
would not be too high a mate. But it was not only the old
mode of thought, not only a maternal vanity, and not only
prejudices which inflamed my opposition. I feared also
for your happiness. I would not have had anything against
the person of Miss Anney herself, were it not for these other
circumstances. I became acquainted with her at Jastrzeb
and loved her sincerely; often I said, God grant that all
our ladies could be like her. But learning who she is and
what took place between you, I became alarmed at first
at the thought that you might have committed similar
offences in Jastrzeb."

" No, Mamma," answered Krzycki ; "I give my word for
that."

"For you see I thought you were absolutely pure; so
think what a blow it was to me."

316 WHIRLPOOLS.

Ladislaus bowed to her hands, in order to hide his face,
for notwithstanding the gravity of the moment, notwith-
standing his sincere emotion and anxiety, the naivete of
his mother seemed to him something so unheard-of that
he feared he might betray himself by an expression of
astonishment, or what was worse, a smile. "Ah," he
thought, " it is lucky that I have to swear only as to Jastr-
zeb, for I could not tell mother what I told Gronski, that
a wise wolf never takes from that village where he keeps
his lair." But simultaneously it occurred to him that one
must be an angel to have such a delusion, and his adoration
of his mother increased yet more.

And she continued:

"Then I took into consideration the world and the
people among whom you must live. I knew that not a few
would commend your conduct, but in reality you would
have to endure a thousand petty annoyances and stings
which would irritate and exasperate you until they
caused a pain and bitterness even in your feeling towards
your wife. I was concerned about your happiness which,
in my blindness I craved above all things for you. And
only to-day was the film taken off my eyes. Apparently
such things we know and proclaim, but, nevertheless, with
real surprise and as if it was something new, I heard that
happiness is not the most important thing in life and that
it ought not to be the greatest concern of a mother.
And before that my heart was cleansed of its pride and I
was commanded to be guided by my conscience: there-
fore, my Laudie, I cannot dissuade you from this marriage."

Ladislaus, hearing this, again bowed his head to his
mother's hands and began to cover them with kisses.

"Ah, Mamma, dear," he repeated, "ah, Mamma, how
happy I am !"

"And I," she answered; "for I feared that your feeling
might be superficial, founded upon a delusion and fancy;

WHIRLPOOLS. 317

but, after this conversation, I see that you love Aninka
truly."

" Yes ! That is imbedded so deeply that it could only
be torn from me with my life."

"I believe, I believe."

Thus mutually assuring each other, they both spoke
with absolute sincerity, and both at the same time deluded
themselves. For Ladislaus had an inflammable head,
greedy senses, and soft heart, but he lived principally on
the exterior, and none of his feelings could spring from
great depths as, on the whole, he was not a deep man.

But his mother, believing every one of his words as she
believed in the gospel, said with great confidence :

"May God bless you, my child. Let us at present speak
of what is to come. I, of course, understand that once
having agreed, it is necessary to agree not with half but
with the whole heart: it is necessary to receive Aninka
with open arms and give her to understand that it is she
who is conferring a favor upon us for which we should be
grateful."

"Yes, for she does," exclaimed Ladislaus with ardor.

"Very well, very well," answered Pani Krzycki, with a
smile, "now it becomes me to go to her and thank her
myself. I assume also that Aninka will withdraw the
condition that you should not call upon her for a week."

"Zosia is to attend to that, but naturally Mamma's
words will be more effective."

"When do you want me to go?"

Ladislaus again folded his palms:

"At once, Mother dear, at once."

"Very well; will you wait for me here, or at Zosia's?"

"Here; for Zosia might be with Marynia at the re-
hearsal. She sometimes accompanies her."

Pani Krzycki rose heavily from the chair, as that day,
from the morning, had been trying for her and the rheuma-

318 WHIRLPOOLS.

tism held her more and more strongly. Having, however,
straightened out her limbs, she moved briskly ahead.
The thought that she was troubling herself for her boy
made it an agreeable task and exertion.

But on the way she began to think of matters of which
thus far there had been no mention between herself and
her son. She belonged to that type of women, often
found among the country nobility, who know perfectly
well how to line the ideal cloak with a real lining. In her
time the entire management of the Jastrzeb estate rested
on her head, and on that^eccount she had a multitude of
worries and had habituated herself to struggle continually
with them. So at the present time her mind turned to the
material side of the affair.

"I would consent to this marriage" (she thought as if
to justify herself to herself), "even though Aninka did not
have anything, but I am curious to know how much she
can have." After which she began to fondle the hope that
while Aninka might not have millions and for an English-
woman might not be very rich, she might have what in
Poland might be regarded as great opulence, though in
England it might be deemed a modest fortune.

And amidst such meditations she rang Miss Anney's
door-bell.

The visit passed off as could be expected. Pani Krzycki
was honest, grateful, motherly and, at the moment when
she surrendered the life and happiness of her son to the
hands of Miss Anney, "her dear daughter/' she was, in
a measure, pathetic. Miss Anney, too was in a measure,
pathetic, also cordial and simple, quiet and collected as
well, but she seemed to be acting with caution, though
nothing whatever was said of the past. With Pani Krzycki
there even remained an impression that there was by a
hairbreadth too much of this "reserve." She understood
perfectly that it would be want of tact on Miss Anney's part

WHIRLPOOLS. 319

if she displayed too much enthusiasm and conceded that
she acted properly, but nevertheless she carried away at
the bottom of her heart a little disappointment as it were,
for there was hidden in her the conviction that the woman
who would get "Laudie" and would bear his name, could
be excused even though she went insane from joy.

Returning to the hotel, she did not, however, confess to
her son this thought, but began to load "Aninka" with
praises and speak of her so warmly that tears stood in
the eyes of both. Ladislaus, above all else, was anxious
to know whether the " taboo" was removed and the pro-
hibition recalled; having learned that such was the case,
a quarter of an hour later, he was at Hanka's feet.

"My beloved, my angel, my wife!" he said, embracing
her knees.

320 WHIRLPOOLS.

vn

A FEW days later, the old notary, Dzwonkowski, and Dr.
Szremski came to visit Gronski. The latter, to whom this
was an agreeable surprise, as he liked both, and, besides,
esteemed the doctor highly /-greeted them with great cordial-
ity and began to asK the news of the city, the vicinity, and
of themselves.

"Ha! We live, we live," answered the boisterous
doctor. "In these times, that is an art. But the police
so far have not arrested us, the bandits have not shot us,
the socialists have not blown us up into the air; so we not
only live, but have come to Warsaw. I, because I must ride
farther, — as far as Volhynia, and this gentleman," pointing
to the notary, "on account of the concert and Panna Mary-
nia's participation in it. Having read of it in the daily
newspapers he fell into such a state that at any moment
I looked for an attack of apoplexy or aneurism. There was
no help for it. I had to prescribe a stay in Warsaw as a
cure. Finally, he cannot at all endure our little town any
more, and is thinking only of giving up his office to some
one and of moving here permanently. In his heart a fire is
burning, and the snow melts, and ice melts and so forth.
Ha!"

During these words, the old notary moved his jaws so
furiously that his chin almost touched his nose; finally
he declared:

"The head splits ! The head splits I"

"The same old quarrel?" asked Gronski, laughing.

"Quarrel?" repeated the notary. "It is not I who

WHIRLPOOLS. 321

quarrel. He has shaken up my brain, shattered my nerves,
stupefied me, torn to pieces, exhausted, cleaned out, sucked,
and outtalked the remnants of strength within me. From
yesterday, sir, on the whole road — a continual din and
roar in the ears — and after that in the hotel ; to-day,
since morning, and now here. No, I cannot stand it, no, I
cannot 1"

"Tut, tut. And who daily summons me? Who every
day hangs out his tongue until it reaches the first button
on his vest and orders me to examine it ? Wait, sir. I will
ride away and you will have to examine it yourself before
a mirror."

"Then you are really going to Volhynia? How about
your patients?" asked Gronski.

"I fear that in the meantime they may get well; but
it can't be helped, I must go 1"

"And for how long?"

"I do not know, but do not think very long. I am a
Volhynian Mazur, from the minor nobility of that place,
or as they say there of the single-manor nobles. They are
mostly settled there as tenants of various petty nobles, but
I have my own seat in partnership with a brother, an ex-
judge, who has charge of the estate and to whom I am now
riding."

"But, of course, not because he is sick ?"

"Certainly, sir; he has become insane."

"My God! Since when?"

"Not long ago. From the time he became a 'local
rights' man/"

"Ah."

"That is so. The indigent, haughty noble took a notion
to pose as a landed proprietor, hankered after the society
of gentlemen, and got water on the brain. A month ago I
sent him two thousand primers for our impoverished
shabby gentility, of whom no one thinks and who involun-

21

322 WHIRLPOOLS.

tarily or rather in spite of their will, are there losing their
Polish spirit. And would you believe it, sir, that he sent
back to me the whole package, together with a letter in
which he announced that he would not distribute the
primers."

"Why?" asked Gronski, whom the narrative of the
doctor began to interest.

"He wrote to me in the first place that they have decided
to live and labor only for their own province and occupy
themselves only with local or provincial affairs, and again
they aim at some kind of synthesis of all nationalities, and
thirdly they will Polonize nobody."

"But you were only concerned about primers for the
children of the petty nobility, who are Polish."

"By them this is already styled Polonization, for it
interferes with their ' synthesis/ We know in what that
synthesis must end. May the devils take them, together
with their diplomacy. But that is not enough ! In the
end, my ingenious brother informs me that he does not
regard himself as a Pole, but only as a Volhynian with
Polish culture and that this is his political position. Ah,
sir, Stanczyk was wrong when he said that in Poland there
are the most doctors. In Poland there are the most poli-
ticians. Every average Pole is a second Talleyrand, a
second Metternich, a second Bismarck. He never partici-
pated in political life, is unacquainted with history, never
passed through any schools, and never studied. That is
nothing ! He is by grace of God I He from nature has a
pastille in his brain, of which he thinks that if he only
lights it, then all the horse-flies and gnats, which suck our
blood will be so hoaxed that they will cease to molest us.
And every one is convinced that he alone sees clearly, that
he alone has the exclusive measures, and that his diplomacy,
county, local, provincial, or whatever you may call it, is a
panacea. It never occurs to him, that with such county or

WHIRLPOOLS. 323

local polities, this fatherland, as Yan Casimir said, would
go into direptium gentium."

"Sir," said the aged notary to Gronski, pointing to the
doctor, "you have pressed in him such a button, that now
he will not stop talking until we shall not be able to move
hand or limb."

"That is not a button, that is a sore," answered Gronski.

And evidently it was a sore for the doctor, as he was so
absorbed that he did not hear what was said about him,
and began the following dialogue with his absent brother.

"Ah ! So you are not a Pole but only a Volhynian with
Polish culture ? Very well ! Then, in the first place I will
tell you that you have repudiated your father, grandfather,
and great-grandfather; that you have spat upon their
graves; that you have renounced your traditions, your
right of existence, that you have grown smaller, that you
have deserted your own people and have gone to those
who do not want you, who do not invite you and who treat
you with contempt ; that you hang in the air and you will
look prettily under such conditions in your Volhynia.
Again, I will tell you that you are not yet a turncoat, since
that which you are doing, you do through stupid politics
which in consequence of your ignorance you regard as
wise, but you have paved the way for future turncoats.
Your grandson or great-grandson will renounce Polish
culture. And finally, if you say that you are not a Pole,
but only a Volhynian, why do you not go back farther, even
as far as Darwin ? You could with equal justice say that you
are not a Pole, but an orang-outang or a pithecanthrope
with Polish culture ? What ? Bah ! But you still say that
you do not want to Polonize any one? How can you
Polonize ? Whether with a whip, with prison, by religious
compulsion, with school, or with a gag on the native tongue ?
Tell me ! But, if not denying your nationality you would
shine with the example of your public Polish virtues, if you

324 WHIRLPOOLS.

would give someone your Polish hunger for liberty, your
Polish ability to understand the sufferings of others, your
Polish love, your Polish hope, your faith in a better future,
and through these reconcile him to Poland, then would you
regard such a Polonization as premature, and bad politics ?
But in such case, I ask you, you dunce, have you anything
better to offer, and why are you staying there where you
settled ? You don't know ? And in the end you will not
even know who you are. That I will tell you. You,
Brother, are a weak character and above all have a weak
head."

Here he turned to Gronski :

"This is what I have to say to my brother and why I
am riding to him. There is to be some kind of an assembly
there, so I will say this, in other words, publicly."

"If you would only go as quickly as possible," exclaimed
the notary.

And the doctor began to laugh.

"But as I have yet time, I will first attend Panna Mary-
nia's concert."

"By all means," said Gronski, "ride, sir. Poland is
not only being cut from the outside by inimical scissors,
but she is beginning to be rent asunder internally. Ride,
sir, and tell them that publicly. Perhaps some may be
found who will be frightened at their amenableness to the
future."

"I think that such will be found. For, in the main, I
assume that they, or at least a majority of them, thus far
feel in the old way, and only speak as they do in order
to loosen, even though for a moment, the noose which
presses on their throats. But in this they are mistaken.
The result will be that they will be despised and trampled
upon, both from above and below."

"When are you going?"

"The assembly meets in about ten days, so I actually

WHIRLPOOLS. 325

will stay here about a week, for I have various matters to
attend to in Warsaw. In the meantime, I will visit my
acquaintances, and among others Pani Otocka, and the
Krzyckis. How is Krzycki?"

"As well as a fish — and he is going to many."

"Well, well. I will wager that it is with that beautiful
Englishwoman? A pure flower!"

"Yes. But it seems that this is not an English flower,
only genuinely Polish, from a village meadow."

"For the Lord's sake. What are you saying?"

"That is no longer any secret. Her name is Hanka
Skibianka."

Here Gronski related the whole history of Miss Anney,
omitting only that Ladislaus knew her while she was
Hanka.

And they listened with astonishment, while the doctor
slapped his knees with his palms and cried:

"Ah! If I had known that; ah, if I had known
that!"

"Well, what would have happened? asked the notary
testily.

" What would have happened ? I would have been in love
with her not only under the ears but above. As it was, I
only missed by a hair being in love with her. Ah, lucky
but undeserving Krzycki ! But such is my ill-luck. Let
only one catch my fancy — lackaday! either some one
takes her, or she is in love with somebody else. But it
cannot be helped ! I must see Miss Anney and tender her
my best wishes. For after all Krzycki is a good boy. Such
as he will not rebuild Poland, but a good boy, nevertheless.
And such a comely rascal, that he ravishes the eye. I
would like to see them together. That will be a couple
— what!"

" If you wish to see them, and have the time," said Gron-
ski, " then it will not be difficult, for we arranged yesterday

326 WHIRLPOOLS.

at Pani Otocka's that to-day we will all be present at the
rehearsal for the concert. I can take you gentlemen to-day
to the rehearsal, and aftei-wards, the whole party can go
to breakfast."

"Exactly," exclaimed the notary, "that is just what I
came to ask you to do. I have dropped out of the old
relations and I did not know to whom to apply — well I"

Gronski glanced at his watch.

"If that is the case, all right; but we have still time. In
the hall at this moment there is some kind of meeting or
lecture, and such meetings usually drag beyond the desig-
nated time. After that, before they ventilate the hall and
replace the chairs, a half hour will elapse. I have not omitted
any rehearsal, so I know how things go."

"And I will not omit any/' said the notary.

Nevertheless, he grew so impatient that they left too
early. Before the building stood about a dozen persons,
evidently waiting for those in the hall ; while from within
there reached them a buzzing noise, at times shouts, ap-
plause, and the sound of the stamping of feet.

"What kind of meeting is it? " asked the doctor.

"Really, I do not know," answered Gronski. "Now we
are full of that. There are political meetings, social con-
ferences, literary lectures, and God knows what else."

"I envy Warsaw," exclaimed the doctor.

"There is not much to envy. At times it chances that
something deserves attention, but oftener such absurdities
take place that one feels ashamed."

"Oh, they are already leaving," observed the notary;
"but why are they shouting so?"

"Let us wait ; that is some kind of a brawl," said Gronski.

In fact it evidently was a brawl, for from the roomy
vestibule there rushed out on the wide stairs between ten,
and twenty men, without caps or hats, who in the twinkling
of an eye, formed a disorderly heap. In this heap, hands,

WHIRLPOOLS. 327

canes, and umbrellas moved violently, and these motions
were accompanied by a shrill shriek. Afterwards from
the gyrating mob, shoved by tens of arms, shot out, as if
from a sling, somebody, with bare head and tattered coat,
who, leaping from the stairs, turned a somersault at the
doctor's feet in such a manner as almost to tumble him
and the notary on the ground.

"Swidwicki!" exclaimed Gronski with astonishment.

Swidwicki rose, and shaking his fist menacingly at the
crowd, which, having ejected him outdoors, was again
returning to the hall, began to say with a panting voice :

"Ah, it is you! They have warmed my hide — they
have warmed my hide ! They have broken my ribs a little,
and torn my coat. But that is nothing ! I also have crooked
a few straight noses and have straightened out a few crooked
ones. This is the second time that this has happened to
me — ouch!"

"Come with me. You cannot stay thus, with bare head
and in such a coat."

"No, no!" answered Swidwicki. "Ouch! Let me
recover my breath. Hey! Messenger!"

And beckoning to a messenger, he said to him :

" Citizen ! Here are two pieces of coin and a wardrobe
check. Go to the vestibule and fetch me my hat and top-
coat."

"But for the Lord's sake what happened?"

"Directly, directly," said Swidwicki; "but let me first
dress. After that we will go to some confectioner's
shop — ouch ! For as soon as the meeting closes, they
will begin to go out and, finding me here, they will be
ready to administer a new drubbing to me and to you
gentlemen to boot."

"So that was a meeting?"

"A meeting, conference, discussion, lecture — whatever
you wish. Panna Sicklawer spoke on 'Imparting knowl-

328 WHIRLPOOLS.

edge/ On the platform sat Pan Citronenduft, Panna
Bywalkiewicz, Panna Anserowicz, Panna Kostropacka, the
editor Czubacki, and others. The hall was packed to suf-
focation. Ouch ! I enjoyed myself like a king."

"We see," observed Gronski.

"You think not? But introduce me to these gentlemen.
For I am the hero of the day."

"Hero Swidwicki, gentlemen; Notary^Dzwonkowski and
Dr. Szremski," said Gronski.

Swidwicki squeezed the palms of Gronski's astonished
companions ; after which when the messenger brought the
hat, cane, and top-coat he dressed himself and said :

"With this cane I would be ready to wait for them here
— but for to-day I have had enough. The meeting will
last twenty minutes or longer. Let us go to some confec-
tioner's shop, for I feel a pain in my legs and cannot
stand."

They went to a confectioner's. Swidwicki ordered for
himself one and then a second glass of cognac, after which
he began to talk:

"That was an instructive meeting. Panna Sicklawer,
I tell you gentlemen, is a Cicero in petticoats. When she
started to impart knowledge to various meek creatures of
the masculine gender and various magpies of fourteen
years, of whom the audience mainly consisted, even I grew
warm. The meek creatures applauded or else cried
'shame* when there was a talk of parents, and the magpies
blushed so violently and fidgeted in their seats so much,
that they seemed to sit on needles, and everything went
along smoothly. Remarks were made by Pan Citronen-
duft, Panna Gotower and some maid, a native of far away
Kars, whose name as well as I could hear it, had a Grecian
or Spanish sound, — Nieodtego. The maturer portion of
the auditors was also carried away by the enthusiasm, and
I, though Gronski doubts it, enjoyed myself like a king.

WHIRLPOOLS. 329

For you see, gentlemen, that I, from principle, have nothing
against imparting knowledge, — nothing. Quite the
reverse ! Only, I am of the opinion, if an affair is to be
jolly let it be really jolly. So then, after a few addresses, I
rose, asked leave to speak and announced that I desired
to recite a poem in honor of the gathering. They agreed to
it and I received applause in advance. Then I began to
declaim — indeed, not an original poem, but my own
parody on the fable: 'Once wanton little Thad/ But
this did not continue long; it appeared that my Thaddy
proved himself to be so wanton, that he was too wanton,
even for them. They did not like also this ; that in staring
at Panna Nieodtego, I closed one eye. They began to
shout ' Silence!' 'Fie!' 'Away with him! This is jeer-
ing !' And here my ideal fable began to change into a real
epic. For when in reply to the shout 'This is jeering/ I
said, 'Well what did you think it was?' there was a uni-
versal roar of ' Put him out ! ' At least fifty hands grappled
my shoulders and neck; a nice rumpus followed. They
struck me, I struck back. Finally, they dumped me into
the corridor : from the corridor on to the stairs, and into the
street. The rest you gentlemen know. I repeat for the
third time that I enjoyed myself like a king."

"That to me is at least courage," said the doctor; "it is
necessary to stop such things, even by a scandal; so you
did well, sir; you are a brave nationalist."

"I, a nationalist," exclaimed Swidwicki, "why, the day
before yesterday I was thrown out of a meeting of the
National Democrats. Indeed, a little more politely, but I
was ejected."

Gronski began to laugh.

"So this is your new sport?"

But with this their conversation ended as their attention
was attracted by the crowd returning from the lecture.
Before the window flowed a black human stream, among

330 WHIRLPOOLS.

which were a large number of striplings, and young girls
with cheeks covered with blushes.

When the stream finally passed by, there appeared after
an interval the bright, vernal forms of Hanka, Marynia,
and Pani Otocka, in the company of Krzycki.

WHIRLPOOLS. 331

VIII

UPON the so called "happiest period" in Krzycki's life cer-
tain small shadows fell, and this for various reasons. If
on the one hand his love for Hanka grew with each day,
on the other there began various petty annoyances which
his mother had foreseen. They were things almost im-
perceptible, about which one could not pick a quarrel,
but which nevertheless stung. Thus it happened that the
ladies of Gorek came to Pani Krzycki to invite her to the
wedding of Kajetana to Pan Dolhanski, which wedding
through a special dispensation of the church was to take
place in a few days. Pani Krzycki in tendering them her
good wishes announced that they could also do the same
to her, owing to the betrothal of her son to Miss Anney.
Then both, one after the other, began to heartily embrace
her, which, though apparently a sign of their good wishes,
looked more like condolence, the more so as Pani Wlocek
did not utter anything besides the words, "It is God's
will," while Kajetana raised her eyes as piously as if she
wanted to supplicate the Powers on high to comfort the
heartbroken mother. Ladislaus laughed after their de-
parture, but in his soul he wished that both would break
their necks. When, however, a few days later it appeared
that out of the entire circle of acquaintances only Hanka
did not receive an invitation from these ladies, he wanted
to start a brawl with Dolhanski: and his mother was
barely able to restrain him with the declaration that neither
she herself, nor Zosia, nor Marynia would attend the
wedding. Krzycki was even angered because some of his
acquaintances, in contrast to the ladies of Gorek, tendered

332 WHIRLPOOLS.

to him their good wishes with excessive ardor, as if he had
performed an heroic act. His marriage, as well as the ante-
cedents of Hanka, became the subject of every conversation
in "society." Out in the world, great political changes
could take place, bombs could explode, strikes could
break out, but in the salons for a few days only Hanka
was spoken of, various flabby dames, with eyes half
closed, in a questioning tone, drawling through their
teeth, "Anka — Skubanka1 — n'est ce pas?" But while
the good wishes of those who tendered them to Krzycki
with such excessive ardor ^prang from appreciation of the
heroism with which he dared to take as wife "Skubanka,"
Hanka' s marriage settlement and the hope of "pluck-
ing" the millionaire in the future played an important
r61e. This marriage settlement, which, agreeably with Pani
Krzycki's anticipations, was, for local conditions, quite
considerable, but by no means reached the millions, grew
in public opinion with almost every hour, so that it attained
almost fabulous proportions, and intensified the universal
curiosity to the extent that when Hanka in the company
of her two young female friends together with Pani Krzycki
and her fiance* appeared at the races, all the lorgnettes
were directed at their carriage. The flabby dames from
"high life," gazing at her radiant countenance, sparkling
with happiness and health, indeed said that they could at
once surmise that "this is something a little different,"
and contended that in the present days this "high life"
ought to open its delicate bosom to a person possessing such
means for "doing good." As to her comeliness, however,
the opinion prevailed that she was not sufficiently pretty
for one to lose his head and that Krzycki was marrying for
money. His defence was undertaken only by the ladies
from Gorek, who, meeting now many people, made it
everywhere understood that their young neighbor did not
1 "Skubanka," a pun upon the word, "skubac," to pluck.

WHIRLPOOLS. 333

always seek merely money, and that only when he was
disappointed in other fancies, did he come to the con-
clusion that it was better to have money than nothing.

Thus did things shape themselves externally. But on
the sky of the betrothed pair appeared tiny clouds which,
as Ladislaus' love became inflamed, appeared even with
greater frequency. Hanka, habituated to English customs,
did not at all hesitate to receive her fiance* at her home and
pass with him long hours alone; to stroll with him over
the city, to drive from the city without a chaperon, and
even call him by his Christian name. She said to herself
that in great and sincere love there also should be room for
friendship and that it was necessary before one became a
wife to be a sincere friend and comrade. She thought that
Ladislaus would understand this and not only would love
her all the more but also cherish her all the more. Once
she had read in an English book that one might love and
not cherish, and that in such a case love grows embittered
to the degree that it may become perpetual unhappiness.
So, desiring to avoid this and place her future life upon
immovable foundations, she wished to win, besides love,
the deepest possible friendship.

But here the misunderstandings between the engaged
couple began. That golden-hair, that good friend, gazing
with a heavenly light, that rose-colored, gay comrade who
dressed herself in a light dress and spring hat, was so charm-
ing that Ladislaus cherished indeed without limit, but at
every te"te-a-t£te lost his head. To Hanka it appeared that
her betrothed, though he was enamoured to distraction and
at the same time was a friend, should be the kind of a man
upon whose shoulders she could at every moment press her
head with perfect confidence that he would not abuse her
trust and would not take advantage of their seclusion nor
of any temporary weakness, nor of the gray hour, nor of
the fact that love disarms and weakens a woman. He, on

334 WHIRLPOOLS.

the contrary, perhaps because he lost his head, acted as if
he thought that friendship and the relations of a comrade
only added to the rights of betrothal. From this there was
generated a mutual vigilance; in him a watchfulness for
everything of which he might take advantage; in her a
wariness of that which she ought to avoid. This vigilance,
at first silent, soon lapsed into quarrels. They were fol-
lowed by apologies, which would have intensified the love
of both were it not that Ladislaus apologized too passion-
ately. And this misunderstanding was in reality deeper
than both thought, for when Hanka, remembering what
once had taken place between them, believed that he should
on that account be more continent, he, in moments when
blinded by desire, seemed to fancy that very past, together
with the burnt bridges, justified him in everything. From
these causes, the enchanted edifice of their happiness from
time to time became defaced and would have been defaced
yet more strongly were it not for this, that in Ladislaus
there was material for everything and there came upon him
moments entirely different. Sometimes on clear nights
when they sat on the balcony leading to the garden of
Hanka's residence, and when from the neighboring balcony
came the song of Marynia's violin, and the moonlight
seemed to sleep quietly on the opposite walls, it also put
to slumber Ladislaus' senses. His soul, lulled to sleep by
the sight of the beloved being, bleaching like a white angel
in the dusk, — intoxicated with the fragrance of leaves
and flowers, winged by music, was dissolved into a kind of
universal but sweet and chaste feeling, which enveloped
Hanka and bore her towards the stars. The impression-
able soul of the girl at such times was susceptible of this
and was simply submerged in happiness.

But these were transitory moments of tranquillity of
mind. A moment later, while Ladislaus was bidding her
good-night and when he kissed her hands and forehead,

WHIRLPOOLS. 335

quickly there was awakened in him the eternal hungry de-
sire, and he sought her lips and hugged her breast to his
own ; he lost his memory, and, when she broke away from
his arms, he said that he did not promise her that he would
be an English Quaker; and they parted, if not angry, as
if both were humiliated and sad.

And that sadness fraternized with love.

But it often happened that Ladislaus disarmed Hanka
with his great frankness which in reality was his chief at-
tribute.

"You, my Hanusia," he said to her once, after serious
quarrel, "would want that I should mount a ladder and
stay on the highest round, for a time — Good 1 — I can !
But to stay there forever I could not do any more than I
could walk on stilts all the time. Do not imagine that I am
something more than I am. I am an ordinary mortal,
who only differs from others in this, that he loves you above
everything."

"No, Laudie," answered Hanka, "I do not at all desire
that you should be some great personage, for I remember
that the Englishmen say that an honest man is the noblest
work of God."

"I did a little mischief once, but I think I am honest."

"Yes, but remember that not he is honest who does not
do evil, but he who does good. In that everything is
contained."

"I agree to that. You will teach me that."

"And you me."

"Ha ! we will keep house in Jastrzeb and will do all we
can. There is much work to be done there and of the kind
for which I am fitted. To be a good husbandman, to be
good to the people, to instruct them; to teach, love, and
enlighten; to be also a good citizen of the country and in
case of necessity to die for it — for this, I give my word
I am fit. Yes, it is so. And now you have me. But taking

336 WHIRLPOOLS.

everything together, no evil will befall you with me,
Hanusia, — I love you too much for any evil to befall
you. Only, my golden one, my love, my rosy lady, do not
command me to sit on the ladder, for that I cannot do."

His simplicity and sincerity propitiated Hanka. The
thought of a joint life in Jastrzeb, of loving the folks whose
child she was, of instructing them, of laboring over and for
them, cheered and allured her more powerfully than any-
thing else could do. To return to Poland and take charge
of a Polish village was the plan which she formulated
immediately after the delith of the Anney family. And
now just such a horizon was opened to her by this former
"young lord" whom she loved while yet a simple girl.
Therefore she was grateful to him: she was ready in her
soul to exalt his good qualities, to exculpate his faults, to
love him, and to persevere faithfully at his side, but in ex-
change she wanted nothing more than that he should love
her not only with his senses, but with a true and chaste
love, and that he should regard her above all things as
his life companion, " for better or for worse."

And, for that reason, whenever there came to her
moments in which it seemed to her that he saw in her
principally an object for his desires and was unable to find
in himself strength to struggle with them and elevate his
feelings to noble heights, doubt seized her heart and she
could not resist the thought that he was not such as she
would wish him to be.

"But nevertheless," she consoled herself in her soul,
"that is a sincere and true nature, and where there is sin-
cerity and truth, everything may be brought to light."

Ladislaus on the contrary was in reality sincere to the de-
gree that one could see through him — through and through,
as though he were made of glass. The proof of this was
the opinion which Dr. Szremski expressed about him in
a conversation with Gronski.

WHIRLPOOLS. 337

"To me," he said, "the present-day Hanka Skibianka
is ten times more interesting than the former Miss Anney,
and I wish her happiness from my whole soul. But if she
bases that happiness upon the feeling which Krzycki en-
tertains for her, I fear that she will be disappointed. I do
not wish to say anything bad of him. On the contrary,
to me he is a sympathetic type, for he is immensely ours,
immensely domestic. If he had lived a hundred years ago
and been a Uhlan, he would have charged at Samo-Sierra
no worse than Kozietulski and Niegolewski. Only he
belongs to that species of men for whom it is easier to die
for some idea or for some feeling than to live for them and
to persevere in them. To turn to one idea or to one feeling,
as a magnetic needle turns to the north, is not within their
power nor their concern. They require distraction, amuse-
ment. And there is nothing strange in this. Consider only
that for entire ages nobody was better off than the various
Krzyckis and Gronskis — nobody. So they sucked of
the pleasures of life, like juice of grapes. They ate, drank,
played, dissipated — bah I they even fought for the pleas-
ure of it. They were not vicious nor terrible, for a happy
man cannot be totally vicious. They had in their hearts
a certain feeling of humanity. They were indulgent to
people who were subject to them, but above all things they
were indulgent to themselves. Hence at the bottom of
the Polish soul always lies indulgence. Then came the
time of penance and that indulgence by right of inherit-
ance, particularly in the spheres to which Krzycki belongs,
remains. For him, neither love for woman nor for father-
land will suffice. He will love them and, in a given case,
will perish for them, but in life he will indulge himself.
And you see, sir, that it was just for this reason that I said
that such as he will not rebuild Society."

"And who will?" asked Gronski.

"The future generations — not the pot-bellied, not the
22

338 WHIRLPOOLS.

easy-natured, not the chatterboxes, not the indulgers in
sensual delights and the pleasures of life — no — apparently
they are good for everything and fit for nothing — but only
the hardy, the persistent, the quiet, and the practical. For
them, misfortune and slavery have tilled the ground for a
hundred years."

"And the present day manures the ground," said Gron-
ski, "only it is a pity that this manure has such a rank
smell."

"That is not manure; that is sand blown from abroad
which renders the soil sterile," replied the doctor with
energy.

And he began to curse.

WHIRLPOOLS. 339

IX

DOLHANSKI, however, completely subdued his fiancee and
his future mother-in-law, inasmuch as he prevailed upon
them to call personally upon Hanka and invite her to the
wedding. They were prompted to this by the consideration
that at any rate it behooved them to preserve the outward
semblance of good relations with their future neighbors
from Jastrzeb, and they were persuaded in particular by the
news, which he brought from the high spheres, that "high
life" was reconciled to the idea of admitting Hanka
into its fold, while he, on the other hand, wanted to see her
at a close range in the church. After their visit, during
which the mother and daughter, under the watchful eye
of Dolhanski, acted not only properly but quite amiably,
Pani Krzycki revoked her resolution, of not attending the
nuptial rites.

These took place early in the week at the Church of the
Order of Visitation in the presence of a great concourse of
dames from the "grand world" and Dolhanski's titled
colleagues from the club. In this the desire to take a close
view of the peasant-millionairess played as important a part
as the wish to see Dolhanski. Those of his acquaintances
who knew the ladies from Gorek had previously stated
that he was taking a lady of wealth, but old and ludicrous ;
in consequence of which these good colleagues wanted to
see what kind of mien he would have, so that they might
afterwards have a subject for their gibes and jests. But in
this respect they met with the most complete disappoint-
ment. Dolhanski, escorted on one side by Gronski, on the

340 WHIRLPOOLS.

other by Count Gil, walked through the church with such
self-confidence, such sangfroid, and with such a smile on
his lips, as though he had the right and desire to jeer at
his colleagues. The tall and gaunt young lady did not, after
all, look so badly in her lace wedding dress. She had too
much powder on her face; her veil was too long, and too
much did she "tremble like a leaf," which created an
impression that this leaf did that a little purposely.

There was nothing in her, however, to excite ridicule, and,
when the two knelt before the altar, the dames and beaux,
looking from the depth df the church, had to admit that
in her slender white form there was some charm. But the
eyes of those present were directed principally at Hanka
who glided through the nave on Ladislaus' arm, like a
light spring cloud. To the gentlemen of the club it seemed
that from the moment of her entrance the church grew
brighter. Count Gil, who found himself near her, behind
the stalls, later stated in a certain salon that a rosy warmth
radiated from her. Others at once corroborated this and
to the mot of a dame that in order to find favor in men's
eyes it was necessary that one must not only be a woman
but also a radiator, they replied that it was absolutely
necessary.

In the meanwhile they envied Ladislaus Mr. Anney's
millions and Hanka, who so absorbed to herself the general
attention that Pani Otocka and Marynia passed by almost
unobserved. Neither appeared to the best advantage that
day. In Pani Otocka, Dolhanski's marriage aroused a cer-
tain disgust, which was reflected in her countenance, and
Marynia opened her lips too widely out of curiosity, and
besides, her bared arms were so thin and, as usual with
immature girls, were so red that, they could only excite
compassion. The ladies of the " grand world," besides,
did not look at one or the other for the further reason that
Ladislaus, with his stature and visage of a Uhlan of the

WHIRLPOOLS. 341

time of the Duchy of Warsaw, became the focus upon
which the rays of their tortoise-shell lorgnettes were
converged.

With the appearance of the priest silence fell and the
rites began. The lorgnettes were now directed towards
the altar. In the distance could be seen floating under the
orange blossoms the bridal veil and Dolhanski's head,
somewhat bald at the summit, over which crept the re-
flexes of the candles flickering in the dusk. Krzycki,
bending towards Hanka, began to whisper: "And we will
soon — " and she dropped her eyelids in sign of assent;
after which when their eyes met, she blushed violently
and raised her lace handkerchief to her lips, and later
fixed her gaze upon the altar, for she recalled to her mind
how, not long before, the candles flickered in the same
manner in the Church of the Holy Cross, when together
they prayed for their future happiness. Yes, soon they
would kneel there again in order not to be separated for
life, and this thought, so full of sweetness and at the same
time of uneasiness of feeling, expanded her breast.

In the meanwhile in the silence could be heard the voice
of the priest: "Edward, do you take Kajetana, whom you
see before you, for wife?" and when Dolhanski firmly
confirmed this and Kajetana mumbled that she wanted
this Edward, their hands were bound by the stole and the
rites rapidly approached an end ; then the hymeneal party
left the church. The bridal couple were to leave for a tour
abroad within two hours, but before that in the dining-
hall of the hotel a dinner awaited them, to which, of the
relatives of the groom, only Pani Krzycki, Ladislaus,
Hanka, as his betrothed, and the sisters were invited;
of the more distant, Gronski and Count Gil, as groomsmen
attended. The dinner with the inevitable toasts did not
last long; after it the newly- married pair repaired to their
separate apartments and after a certain time reappeared

342 WHIRLPOOLS.

attired in their travelling clothes. Then began the usual
bustle preceding a journey; trunks, small luggage, and
bright travelling paraphernalia were hauled out. Dolhanski
during the dinner and these last moments displayed such
sangfroid and such phlegm that all the lords of England
might envy him. Without the least haste he conversed
with the gentlemen; he expressed his regrets to Marynia
that he could not be at the concert; to Pani Otocka he
said that he owed to her in a great measure his happiness
of that day; and afterwards intrusted Gorek to the
neighborly care of Krzycki, and bantered with Gronski,
trying to persuade him to follow in his footsteps.

This superb calmness of his contrasted strangely with
the uneasiness and distraction of the bride. For a half
hour before the departure and immediately after donning
her travelling robe, she began to stare at her mother with
an inquiring look as if awaiting from her something which
was overlooked or forgotten and which under no circum-
stances ought to be overlooked. This continued so long
that it attracted general attention, and when Pani Wlocek
did not appear to understand the inquiring look, Kajetana
beckoned her for a confidential talk in a room adjoining
the dining-hall.

To the ears of the guests there began to reach for a
quarter of an hour some alarming though muffled cries of,
" Ah 1" and " Oh I" and after an interval the bride entered
with her eyes covered by her palms. But after a while
she dropped her hands alongside her dress and gazing at
Golhanski with the look of an antelope at a lion, she asked
in an almost inaudible voice:

"Edward, perhaps it is already time?"

Gronski, Krzycki, and Count Gil bit their lips, while Dol-
hanski glanced at his watch and said :

"We have yet five minutes."

WHIRLPOOLS. 343

THE cloudlets looming between Hanka and Ladislaus
began by degrees to be transformed into clouds. At times
they ceased to mutually understand each other. Hanka
was more and more disturbed by the thought whether
Ladislaus, notwithstanding his good heart and his ability to
appreciate everything which is exalted and noble, was not
a weak character, that in a moment of sudden impulse or
passionate ecstasy is unable to resist and cannot muster
within himself sufficient strength, even though his own
worth is involved, and at this thought she was oppressed by
a deep sorrow. But she was yet more painfully nettled on
another side of the matter. This was that she arrived at
the conviction that his feelings towards her were better,
purer and, as it were, more shy at the time when he thought
that she was Miss Anney. She remembered various mo-
ments, both in Jastrzeb and in Warsaw, in which she was
certain that this burning flame of love, which glowed in
his heart, was at the same time a sacrificial flame of esteem.
And now when she had told him that she is the former
Hanka that pure fire has changed into an ignition of the
senses. Why?/ Was the cause of this their former sin;
was it that she was a peasant? In the answer to those
questions lay the pain, for Hanka felt that whatever
happened was the result of these causes.

But she was mistaken in thinking that Ladislaus did not
understand that just for these two reasons he ought to
act directly contrary, in order to efface in her the memory
of sin and to raise her in her own eyes and to respect her
as his future wife. He understood this quite clearly, and

344 WHIRLPOOLS.

often it happened that after parting from her he upbraided
himself, not mincing words, and in his soul made a solemn
promise of reformation. But as in his easy life he had not
accustomed himself to contend with anything and, above
all, with himself, therefore this lasted but a short time —
as long only as he was away from her, as long as he was
not enveloped by the warmth emanating from her; only
when he was not absorbed with her eyes; did not
feel her hand in his own, and did not intoxicate himself
with her feminine attractions. Then reason blinded in
him and darkened; he became the slave of blood, full of
sophisms, the agent of senses, and the recollection of the
former Hanka, instead of repressing the temptation, only
increased it the more.

Under such conditions, sooner or later, the storm had
to break above the heads of both and create desolation.
Accordingly it burst sooner than Krzycki could have
foreseen.

One day, coming at the twilight hour to Hanka, he found
her in a strange and unusual condition. She was agitated,
her countenance was suffused with blushes, her eyes were
red, and the hand which she tendered to him, palpably
trembled. At the beginning she did not want to tell him
what was the matter, but when they sat beside each other,
he began to beg of her that she would not make anything
a secret with him, but to tell him what occurred, not only
as a fiance*, but as her best friend.

Hanka was always conciliated by an appeal to friendship.
Therefore after a while she said, smiling sadly :

"I was not concerned about any secret but I preferred
to keep to myself an unpleasantness. Did you, sir, ever
notice my servant, Pauly?"

(Hanka from a certain time addressed her fiance* as
"sir/* believing that in this manner she would hold him
more easily at a proper distance.)

WHIRLPOOLS. 345

"Pauly?" repeated Ladislaus, and though, after all,
he thus far had done nothing with which to reproach
himself, a sudden disquiet arose in him. "Pauly? Why
of course ! Why, she was at Jastrzeb and I saw her here
everyday. What happened?"

"She created for me a horribly disagreeable scene and
has left me."

"Why?"

"That is just what I do not know. She always was very
violent and nervous, but very honest. So I was attached
to her and I thought that she would be attached to me.
But for some time I have observed in her something like
a dislike to me, with each day greater. Really, I never
was harsh to her; even the contrary. So I attributed
everything to the nerves. In the meantime, to-day, it
came to an outburst and it is so disagreeable to me ! so
disagreeable !"

Hanka's voice faltered, and it could be seen that she felt
the whole occurrence deeply. So Ladislaus pressed her
hand to his lips and asked with sympathy

"What kind of outburst was it?"

"This afternoon, or rather after Marynia's return from
the rehearsal, we were to ride up town with Zosia. So,
desiring to change my dress, I ordered her to hand it to
me. Pauly went after it as usual and brought it, but sud-
denly she threw it upon the ground and began to trample
upon it, and in addition screamed in a loud, shrill voice that
she would serve me no longer. At first I was stupefied, for
it occurred to me that she had become insane."

"She surely is insane!" interrupted Ladislaus; "but
what further?"

"She slammed the door and left. I did not see her any
more. About an hour later somebody came for her things
and wages."

Here Hanka began to shake her head.

346 WHIRLPOOLS.

"And nevertheless when I recall her dislike and what
she told me in the last moments, I do not think that it was
an attack of insanity; it was only an outburst of hatred,
which she could no longer restrain in herself. And for me
this is such a disappointment, such a disappointment I"

"My lady — Hanus," said Ladislaus, seizing both
of her hands, "is it worth while to take to heart the deed
of a foolish vixen? For she is a foolish vixen — nothing
more. It is enough to look at her. Calm yourself, Hanus,
— this is only a momentary matter which it is necessary
to forget as soon as possibte . Remember who you are and
who she is! Such times have come that everything is
turned topsy-turvy. Such occurrences now take place
everywhere. * But they will pass away. In the meantime we
two have so many reasons for joy that in view of them
such wretched smarts ought to disappear."

And he began to press alternately her hands to his lips
and to his breast and gaze in her eyes, but this increased her
grief; for Hanka desiring to spare unnecessary disagree-
ableness to her betrothed and herself did not confess every-
thing to him. She was particularly reticent about this,
that the infuriated servant, on leaving, screamed at her in
her eyes, "You base peasant. You ought to serve me, not
I you ! Your place is with cows, not in the palace I" Per-
haps Hanka might not have taken these words so much to
heart were it not for the previous friction in her relations
with Ladislaus, and were it not for the thought that he
transgressed certain bounds perhaps because she was his
former sweetheart and a peasant. But just this reason
caused the thorn to be imbedded in her heart more deeply
and bred in her a fear as to future life in which similar
scenes might be repeated more frequently.

So, also, his words about the happiness awaiting them
were only drops overflowing the cup of bitterness, and his
caresses affected the aggrieved girl like a child, who the

WHIRLPOOLS. 347

more she is consoled the more disconsolate she becomes.
There came to her a moment of weakness and exhaustion.
The usual strength deserted her, her nerves were unstrung,
and she began to sob, but feeling at the same time ashamed
of her tears she buried her face in his breast.

"Hanus, my Hanus 1" repeated Ladislaus.

And he began to kiss her light hair. Afterwards clasping
her temples with his palms, he raised her tear-stained face
and kissed off her tears. She did not defend herself; so
after a while he sought with his mouth her quivering lips.

"Hanus! Hanus!" he whispered in a panting voice.

The ferment of desire more and more obscured his
reason, obscured his heart, his memory. He drank from
the girl's lips while his breath held out, he forgot himself
like a drunkard and finally seized her in his arms.

"Hanus! Hanus!"

And it happened that he offended her grievously, that
to the humiliation, which she had met that day, he added
a new humiliation ; to insult, a new insult — that an
abyss plainly separated them I

348 ' WHIRLPOOLS.

XI

WHEN on the morning of the following day Ladislaus
awoke after a brief feverish sleep, he was seized by grief and
an insane rage at himself. He recalled everything which
had taken place. He remembered that his parting with
Hanka the day before was equivalent to being shown the
door; there returned to Jum as a wicked echo his own
wretched and dreadful words said in his passion at the
time of separation, that if her resistance flowed from fear
that later he might break their engagement, then let her
know that it was an idle fear. And so he imputed this
resistance to miserable motives. And he, a man who
prided himself not only upon his good breeding but also
upon a subtile sense of honor and personal worthiness —
he, Krzycki, could act the way he did and say what he
said. In the first moments after opening his eyes, it seemed
to him that this was a point-blank impossibility; some
kind of a continuation of the nightmare which throttled his
slumber, which ought to disappear with the light of day.

But that nightmare was a heavy reality. It was incum-
bent upon him to take it into account and remedy it in some
manner. He sat down to write a letter, in which he smote
himself upon the breast, complained, and apologized. He
said that no one was able to condemn him as he had con-
demned himself, and if he dared to beg for forgiveness it
was only in hope that perhaps some voice, some echo of
the better moments would intercede for him in her heart
and would procure for him forgiveness. At the close he
begged for an opportunity of repeating in person the words
of the letter and for an answer, even in case the sentence
pronounced against him was final.

WHIRLPOOLS. 349

But when the messenger who took the letter informed
him upon his return that there was no answer, he fell into
genuine despair. As a really spoiled child of life, unac-
customed to opposition and obstacles, and one convinced
that everything was due him, it began to appear to him
that this was more than he deserved; that he was the in-
jured party. He would not admit, however, that all was
lost. He indulged in the hope that Hanka might, before
opening the letter, have announced that there was no answer
and that after reading it she would be moved, would relent,
and rescind her resolution. Sustained by this hope, he
dressed himself, strolled over the city for an hour in order
to give Hanka time to reckon with her heart, and after-
wards rang the bell of her residence.

But he was not received. Then it occurred to him to
apply to Pani Otocka. After a while, he nevertheless
perceived that the causes of his rupture with Hanka were
of such a nature that it was impossible to discuss them
either with Pani Otocka or his mother. In his soul he
now began to accuse Hanka of downright cruelty, but at
the same time the greater the difficulties interposed be-
tween them the greater was his grief. He could not, in
any measure, be reconciled to the thought that whatever
he regarded as his own should be taken away from him;
and as is usual with weak persons, he began to commiserate
himself.

From Pani Otocka he went to Gronski, regarding him
as the only person with whom he could speak frankly and
whose mediation would be effective. And here disap-
pointment awaited him. Gronski had suffered for several
days with his eyes and was not allowed to read; this
put him into a bad humor, and for this reason he
received Ladislaus more indifferently than usual. Ladis-
laus became convinced that it was difficult to speak of the
rupture not only with Pani Otocka and his mother, but

350 WHIRLPOOLS.

even with a man and old friend who knew of his former
relations with Hanka. A feeling of shame plainly choked
the words in his throat, and he began to beat about the
bush and palliate things, talk in empty phrases about a
misunderstanding and the necessity of a friendly mediation,
so that Gronski at last asked, with a shade of impatience :

"Tell me plainly about what you had a falling out, and
then I can tell whether I will undertake to bring you
together again."

And evidently he did not attach much importance to the
matter for he waved his hftnd and said :

" It would be best if you made it up between yourselves."

"No," replied Ladislaus; "this is more serious than
you think, and we ourselves cannot come to any agreement."

"Well, finally, what was it about?"

Shame, exertion, and constraint were depicted upon
Ladislaus* face.

"In a moment of forgetfulness and ecstasy," he said,
" I passed — that is — I wanted to pass — certain limits — "

And he stopped abruptly.

Gronski began to look at him with amazed eyes and
asked:

"And she?"

"Why, if anything had happened there would not have
been any rupture and I surely would not speak of it now.
She ordered me to the door and not to show myself there
any more."

"May God bless her," exclaimed Gronski.

Silence ensued. Gronski walked with big paces over
the room repeating every little while, "It is unbelievable !"
and again, "An unheard-of thing!" and in addition his
face became more and more severe and cold.

After which he sat down and, looking at Ladislaus, began
to speak deliberately:

" I have known many people even among our aristoc-

WHIRLPOOLS. 351

racy, in whom beneath the veneer of society, beneath high
descent and all the pretensions of elegant breeding were
concealed the ordinary coarse, low, peasant instincts. If
this observation can be applied to you as a comfort, accept
it, for I have no other for you."

A sudden wave of anger swept over Ladislaus' heart and
brain. For a while he struggled with himself in order not
to explode and answer insult with insult; in the end he
subdued himself and replied in a hollow voice :

"I deserve it."

But Gronski, not disarmed by this confession, continued :

"No, my dear sir, I will not undertake your defence,
for I should act contrary to my convictions. To you less
than to any one else was it allowable to indulge yourself,
even out of regard for the past. And your fiancee must
have so understood it, and besides she did not forget her
extraction. To you it was less permissible! She was a
hundred times right in showing you the door. The matter
is really more serious than I thought, and so serious that I
do not see any help for it. You did not respect Hanka,
your future wife, and therefore yourself and your own
honor. In view of this how can she honor you and what
can she think of you ?"

"I know/' said Ladislaus in the same hollow voice, "and
I have said all this to myself in almost the same words.
I wrote a letter to her this morning, begging for forgiveness

— there was no answer. I went to her personally — I was
not received. So I came to you as the last refuge — for

— for me there pleads only one thing — I acted badly,
brutally, and scurvily, but I have not ceased to love her.
There is no life for me without her, and though you may
not believe it, nevertheless it is so that under the frenzy
which possessed me, under that froth which blinded me
and under which I to-day sink, lies the feeling not only
deep but pure — "

352 WHIRLPOOLS.

Gronski again began to measure with great steps the
room for he was somewhat touched by Ladislaus' words.

While the latter continued:

"If she will not read my letters and will not receive me,
then I will not be able to tell her that. Hence it is impera-
tive that some one should speak to her in my name. I
cannot apply either to Mother or Pani Zosia in this. I
thought that you, sir — but since you decline, I now have
no one."

"Look, however, into the eyes of reality," said Gronski
more gently, "for it may^be that her love for you was at
once torn into shreds. In such case from where will she
take it when she no longer possesses it?"

" Let her tell me so ; that at least is yet due to me."

Again silence fell.

"Listen," Gronski finally said, "I 'always was a friend
of yours and of your mother, but this mission which you
want to intrust to me I cannot undertake. I cannot
among other reasons, because if your fiance'e does not
reply to you, so likewise she may not reply to me. One
look, one word, will close my mouth and with this it would
end. But try another method. Panna Hanka comes
quite often with Marynia to the rehearsals, at which I am
always present, and afterwards I escort both home. Come
with me. You may find an opportunity to speak with her.
During the return home I will take Marynia and you will
remain with her. I think that she will not repel you even
though out of regard for Marynia, to whom she would not
wish to divulge what had passed between you. — Then
tell her what you have said to me and also beg her for an
interview, which, if it cannot be otherwise — will be final.
It will be necessary somehow to give to the world some
plausible excuse for your rupture; so I presume she will
agree to that. If not, we will think of something else."

Ladislaus began to wring his hands and said :

WHIRLPOOLS. 353

"Perhaps through Zosia we could ascertain whether
this is forever."

"You understand that she may not have wished to dis-
cuss the cause of your rupture even with Pani Zosia."

" I understand, I understand."

"But you now have a fever," said Gronski, "your hands
are burning. Go, try to cool off and calm yourself."

23

354 WHIRLPOOLS.

XII

LASKOWICZ now beheld Marynia, indeed from a distance,
but daily. Even on rainy days, when she did not walk to
the rehearsals, but rode, he lay in wait on the stairway of
the edifice, in order to see her alight from the carriage.
On fair days he usually \faited near her home, and after-
wards followed after her to the hall. As among the em-
ployees in the building were found a few "associates,"
these facilitated his admittance to the rehearsals. To hide
in the boxes or in the seats at the end of the rows was easy,
as during the rehearsals only the stage was fully lit up and
in the auditorium itself the dusk was illumined by only a
few lamps, which were lit in order that the handful of
privileged lovers of music, who occupied the seats behind
the orchestra, might not be plunged in complete darkness.
Amidst these privileged ones, Laskowicz often recognized
acquaintances, — Gronski, Pani Otocka, the old notary,
Miss Anney, sometimes Krzycki, and two or three times,
Dr. Szremski. But notwithstanding his hatred of Ladis-
laus and' dislike of the doctor and Gronski, he was little
occupied by them and thought of them very little, as his
eyes could not even for a moment be torn from Marynia.
He encompassed with his gaze her girlish form, standing
out on the edge of the stage, bathed in a lustre of elec-
tricity, luminous of her own accord, and involuntarily
she reminded him of that alabaster statuette, which the
venerable canon deemed his greatest treasure. Laskowicz
was not an educated man. His one-sided study of physics
had contracted his intellectual horizon and he was incap-
able of rendering to himself a clear account of certain

WHIRLPOOLS. 355

impressions. Nevertheless, when he gazed on that maid,
with violin in hand, on her pure calm countenance, on the
elongated outlines of her figure and dress, there awakened
in him a half conscious feeling that in her there was some-
thing of poetry, and something of the church. She seemed
to him an artless supernal vision, to which one might pray.

Accordingly he deified her in his wild, fanatical soul.
But there raged within him a revolt against all divinities,
therefore he fought with his own feelings and struggled to
depress and weed them out to the last extremity. Inten-
tionally he plucked off the wings of his own thoughts:
intentionally he imposed fetters upon his vagaries and un-
chained his concupiscence. He discomfited himself,
tortured himself, and suffered.

Often he stood on the brink of madness — and in such
cases he was ready to annihilate, slaughter, and set fire to
the whole city in order to seize, amidst the bloodshed and
conflagration, this silvery maid and possess her, — and
afterward perish with her and all others. He imagined
that during the revolutionary storm, which the waves of
the proletariat would stir up, such an universal hour of
annihilation might strike. But when reality scattered
these dreams, when moments occurred in which it became
plain that the people themselves put a muzzle upon the
jaws of the revolutionary dragon, then the gory vision
evaporated into vacuous smoke, and only exhaustion and
confusion remained, for this gloomy proletaire felt that
as long as he had strength the storm would rage, and
that when it passed away he would sink into complete
nothingness.

Hence, in his heart bitterness and jealousy accumulated
more and more. He loved Marynia and at the same time
he hated her, for he thought that she looked upon him as
a worm which squirms at her feet, unworthy of a glance.
He was confirmed in this conviction by the fact that his

356 WHIRLPOOLS.

letters evidently did not make the slightest impression upon
her and did not disturb her usual tranquillity. Laskowicz
had given his word to Pauly that he would see Marynia
only from a distance, and he could not approach her,
because she was never out alone. But in reality he could
not conjecture that those letters were received and burnt
by Pani Otocka and that Marynia knew nothing about
them. It appeared to him that his passionate appeals in
which the words, " Beloved! beloved!" were repeated
every little while, and those fiery outbursts in which he
prostrated himself in hunfility at her adored feet must
have represented him to her as the ruling king-soul shoving
the human wave into the unknown future, and ought to
have evoked some result. " Let it be anger, let it be hatred,"
he said to himself in his soul, "but here there is nothing!
She passes by me as if I was a street cur ; she does not see
me; she does not deign to recognize me."

In fact it was so. In the moments when they passed each
other on the street, Marynia did not and could not recognize
Laskowicz, for after his departure from Jastrzeb he allowed
his youthful beard to grow, and afterwards, Swidwicki,
in order to disguise him in the eyes of the police, bleached
his beard, together with his mustache and the hair on his
head, a light yellow. His clothes and spectacles also
changed his appearance but he forgot about that, and he
fretted with the supposition that her eyes do not see him
or do not recognize him, firstly, because a recollection of
him never comes to her mind, and again because she be-
longs to some kind of social Olympus and he to the " pro-
letarian garbage-box."

Under such impressions his anguish changed into fury.
With savage satisfaction, he thought of this: that there
might come a time when the fate of this "sacred doll"
and all her kin would be in his hands. He persuaded him-
self that that moment would be a triumph for himself

WHIRLPOOLS. 357

personally and for the "good cause," and therefore he
rejoiced at this conjunction. He pictured to himself what
would happen when Marynia came to him to beg for a
favor for herself and her relatives. Whether, at that time,
he would prostrate himself on the ground before her and
tell her to plant her foot on his head, or whether he would
seize her in his arms and afterwards pass time away
shamelessly — he did not know. He only had a feeling
that he could do one or the other.

In the meantime he often said to himself that he ought
not to see her any more, and decided to seek her no more,
but on the following day he rushed to the place where he
could meet her. He struggled with himself, he was torn
inwardly, and became exhausted to such an extent that he
began to fail in health. Want of such air as he breathed
in Jastrzeb, the necessity of hiding from the police, un-
easiness, lack of sleep, sudden and painful spiritual changes
sapped his strength. He became haggard, swarthy, and
at times he thought that death threatened not on the gallows
but in a hospital.

In such a disposition was he found by Pauly, who after
her scene with Hanka, dashed like a whirlwind into his
little garret room.

Her face was so changed, so pale, so sickly and malignant,
and her eyes glittered so feverishly that at the first glance
he knew that she was driven to him by some extraordinary
accident and he asked :

" What has happened?"

"I am no longer with that low peasant."

And she remained silent for she could not catch her
breath, and only her face was twitching nervously.

Laskowicz understood only that she had abandoned her
employment and looked at her with a questioning gaze,
awaiting further explanations.

"Then, sir, you do not know/' she broke out after a

358 WHIRLPOOLS.

while, "then you do not know that he is to marry her?
And that she is no Englishwoman, but only a low peasant !
And such a one I served ! He is to marry her — a low
peasant I — a low peasant ! — he ! "

And her voice changed into a shrill nervous hiccough.
Laskowicz was frightened at her transports, but at the
same time breathed easily. Howsoever he might long
since have conjectured that Krzycki's affections were
directed towards Miss Anney and not towards Marynia,
he was nevertheless pleased in his soul that reality corrob-
orated those conjectures. *

Living, however, in a world which no echoes of the higher
social sphere reach, and knowing nothing of the transforma-
tion of Miss Anney into a Polish peasant woman, he began
to interrogate Pauly minutely because the affair aroused
his curiosity ; he wished also to give time to the excited
girl to calm herself. But this last was not an easy matter,
and he long had to put questions to her to elicit the news
which Swidwicki had first told her that Miss Anney was a
simple peasant woman, but which, however, she did not
at first believe, as he said it while under the influence of
intoxicants. Only from the conversations which she over-
heard did she become convinced not only of the truth of
the statement but also that Krzycki was to wed Miss Anney.
Afterwards she peeped through the keyhole and saw him
kneel before her and kiss her hands. Then she could not
restrain herself any longer and at the first opportunity
flung at the feet of her mistress her "linen frock," and,
reviling her as a base peasant, left her service.

Here again indignation began to seize her so that Las-
kowicz from fear that she might have an attack of convul-
sions, said:

"We will consult together about this, but only let the
lady be pacified."

But she replied with increasing irritation :

WHIRLPOOLS. 359

"I did not come here for you to pacify me. You, sir,
have prated about our mutual wrongs and now you order
me to be pacified. I want help and not your chatter."

"You are anxious that he should not many her?"

"And what else do you suppose?"

In any case Laskowicz would have sided with the girl
for he was obligated to do that by gratitude to her for
saving his life, by the similarity of their lot, and those
"joint wrongs" of which he himself had previously spoken
to Pauly, and of which she now reminded him. But the
existence of Krzycki at present ceased to stand in his way
and Miss Anney's existence less so. Only one thing he
could not forgive in her:

"She was a peasant woman, she was a wage-earner, and
afterwards became a female bourgeois. In this is the
crime."

" In it or not in it, it is now I or she ! Do you understand,
sir?"

"I understand, but what is to be done?"

"When you ran away from the police, I did not ask
what was to be done."

"I remember."

"And you said at Swidwicki's that your people could
accomplish everything."

"For it is so."

"So if he only does not marry her, then even let the
world end."

Laskowicz began to look at her with his closely set eyes
and after a moment commenced to speak slowly and with
emphasis :

"Krzycki was once already condemned and lives,
thanks to you, lady, but if he gets a bullet in his head, then
he will marry no one."

But she, hearing this, turned pale as a corpse; in the
same moment she sprang at him with her finger-nails !

360 WHIRLPOOLS.

"What I" she cried in a hoarse voice ; "what ! he 1 Let
but a hair fall from his head, then, I will have you all — "

Laskowicz's patience, however, was exhausted. He was
irritated, torn internally and sick; hence, after her threat,
a wave of bitterness and rage flooded his brains. He
started up and, glaring in her eyes, shouted !

"Do not threaten with betrayal, for that is death I"

"Death?" she screamed. "Death! this is what life is
tome!"

And shoving her palm close to his face, she blew on it so
that her breath moistened^iim, and repeated:

"Look ! This is what life is to me."

"And to me," exclaimed Laskowicz.

For an interval they stared in each other's eyes like two
odious and despairing souls. He recovered his wits first,
and clasping his head with both hands, said:

"Oh, how unfortunate we are ! oh !"

" Yes ! yes !" reiterated Panna Pauly.

And she began to sob hysterically.

Then he commenced to quiet her. He promised her
that nothing should befall Krzycki and that his marriage
would not under any circumstances take place. He said
that at that moment he could not indeed disclose to her
what measures would be adopted, but he assured her that
neither he nor his party would show any consideration to
a mere female bourgeois, as here was involved a higher
social justice, which does not need to take into account
any particular individual. Pauly only understood that
that "low peasant" would not wed the young master of
Jastrzeb, and became appeased in some measure: and
afterwards, both, from necessity, became occupied with
other matters. It was imperative that some kind of shelter
be found for the young girl : so Laskowicz placed her with
"a female associate" residing in the neighborhood, who
immediately went for her wages and belongings. He him-

WHIRLPOOLS. 361

self returned to his own rooms and began to revolve in his
mind how he could repay Panna Pauly for saving his life.

And in this feeling of gratitude lay the first reason why
he took the matter to heart. A second reason was his own
ill-luck and ill-fated love for Marynia which made him
sensitive to similar strifes ; and the third was that "social
justice" which he mentioned to Pauly. As to the third
reason he felt, however, the necessity of deliberating with
his own soul in order that when the time for action arrived
his hands would be untied, and under the pressure of this
necessity he began to reason in the following fashion :

"On the background of the general concern of the
proletariat, personal affairs will appear. It might be said
that the general concern is the sum-total of them all. In
this respect whoever stands in defence of the personal
affair of a proletaire by that act alone defends universal
principles. But here comes the question of ethics. Whither
are we tending ? To universal justice. Ergo, our principle
is moral for it is only the sum-total of personal affairs:
therefore these personal affairs also must be moral. From
this it follows that the proletaire, who is in the wrong in a
controversy with a bourgeois, nevertheless has justice on
his side simply because he is a proletaire. In this world
everything is relative. A soldier, slaying his opponent in a
war, commits manslaughter; therefore the act itself is
not ethical. But as he commits it in defense of Fatherland,
therefore, from the viewpoint of national welfare he acts
ethically. If in addition thereto he has the spur of personal
hatred to an antagonist, his act would gain in energy and
would not lose its additional significance for Fatherland.
For us, the Polish proletariat is the nation and the idea of
their emancipation, the Fatherland. For this we wage war
and if there is war, then murder and injuries are inflicted
upon the antagonists; and even though the motives for
them might be personal, they nevertheless are not only

362 WHIRLPOOLS.

justifiable but are covered a hundred-fold by the universal
welfare."

" Besides," — he reasoned further — , "the quintessence
of our existence is unhappiness; and from unhappiness
as well as, inversely, from happiness must blossom cor-
responding deeds. This is a necessity flowing from the
nature of things ; and with this ethics have nothing to do.
I and that rabid girl are luckless, like homeless dogs ; in
view of which it is all one whether a wrong was perpe-
trated upon us intentionally or unintentionally; just as it
is all one to the wolf whether the forester who shoots him
in the head, hunted him purposely or whether they met
by chance. The wolf has teeth to defend himself. That
is his right. The moment has come when our fangs have
grown; therefore we have the right to mangle.

" As to that girl, she is mangled by despair which can
only be assuaged by revenge. Is it just? Will it be
beneficial to the girl ? That is all one. The wage-earners
without work and bread drown their woes in alcohol ; the
bourgeois in case of pain injects morphine into himself,
and for her, revenge will be alcohol and morphine. What-
ever may be the consequences, she will destroy the happi-
ness of the pampered ; she will change their joy into tears ;
she will break their lives and raze a particle of that world,
which lies heavily, like a nightmare, upon the breasts of the
proletariat. So it is necessary to aid that revenge, for so
does gratitude for saving life command ; likewise common
wrong, also the good of the cause."

In view of this, it already seemed to Laskowicz a matter
of minor importance whether in that aid a rdle would be
played by a knife, or by a revolver, or by casting upon
Hanka some ignominy, after which nothing would remain
for her to do but to fly and hide herself forever from human
eyes. Neither opportunity nor willing hands were wanting.
It was only necessary to deliberate upon the choice: and
afterwards to act promptly and decisively.

WHIRLPOOLS. 363

With this he went to Pauly who agreed to everything.
As a compensation he demanded that she should release
him from his promise to see Marynia only from a distance,
and he secured that with ease. He evidently wanted to
have his hands untied also in that regard.

364 WHIRLPOOLS.

xin

" HERE is .the answer which I finally received, "said Lad-
islaus, handing a letter to Gronski; "I could not expect
anything else."

"I knew that you would receive it," replied Gronski,
blinking with his ailing ey€s and searching for his binocle,
"I was already informed of it by Pani Otocka, who from
the beginning insisted that Miss Anney ought to answer
you, and in the end prevailed upon her."
Ladislaus reddened and asked :
"Ah! So Zosia Otocka knows everything."
"She does and does not know. Miss Anney told her
only this much : ' He did not forget that he is a young lord
and I a peasant woman and we ceased to understand each
other/ For her it was yet harder to speak of this than for
you and that difficulty festers all the more the wound
which, without it, is deep enough — But I cannot find the
binocle."

"Here it is," said Ladislaus.
Gronski placed it on his nose and began to read :
"You, yourself, sir, rent and trampled upon our joy,
our happiness, my trust, and that deep attachment which
I had for you. To your query of whether I can ever re-
cover those feelings, I answer that I seek for them in vain.
If ever I recover them I will inform you with the same
sincerity with which I to-day say that I have in my heart
only grief and sadness which for a joint life will not suffice."
"Only so much!" said Ladislaus.
"My foresight," answered Gronski, "is verified only too
perfectly. The spring for the time being has dried up."

WHIRLPOOLS. 365

"To the bottom, to the bottom, not a drop for refresh-
ment."

Gronski remained silent for a while; after which he
said:

"I think otherwise, nevertheless. This is not entirely
hopeless. There remains sadness, grief and, as it were,
the anticipation of the recurring swell. In reality, it will
not flow to-day nor to-morrow. — In view of this, for
you there remains either to persevere patiently and win
anew that which you lost, or else, if you have not sufficient
strength, to take some shears and sever the remaining
threads."

"Such shears I will not find. Do you remember, sir,
what she did for me when I was wounded? I will not
forget that."

At this Gronski shaded his eyes with his hand, gazed at
Ladislaus intently and asked:

"My dear sir, did you ever propound to yourself one
question?"

"What one?"

"What pains you the more, — the loss of Miss Anney or
your wounded self-love?"

"I thank you, sir," answered Ladislaus, with irony.
"In reality, only self-love. Through it, I do not sleep,
do not eat ; through it, in the course of a few days, I have
grown lean like a shaving and were it not for this living
wound, life for me would be one perpetual round of
pleasure."

And he began to laugh bitterly, while Gronski continued
to gaze at him, not removing his hand from his ailing eyes,
and thought:

"That girl has an honest heart, and let her only see him;
then she will forgive everything through compassion alone."

After which he said :

" Listen, after a quarter of an hour, I will put on those

366 WHIRLPOOLS.

dark spectacles and go to the rehearsal. Come with
me."

"How will that help me, now?" exclaimed Ladislaus.

"I do not know. I do not even guarantee that we will
meet Miss Anney, for Marynia sometimes goes with a
servant. But, in any event, you will not lose anything by
it; so come."

But further conversation was interrupted by the entrance
of the doctor, the more unexpected, as he had announced,
upon leaving Warsaw, that he would stay with his brother
at least ten days. *

"How is this? You have already returned 1" exclaimed
Gronski.

"A surprise, hey?" vociferated the doctor. "Yes! And
for me it was a surprise I One medical visit, afterwards
a fee supplemented with the amiable advice, 'Get out of
here, while you are whole 1* Lo, here I am. Oh, what
a delightful journey 1"

"How did this happen?"

"How did it happen? I will tell you immediately. But
no I I know that at this hour you leave for that rehearsal :
so I will go with you, gentlemen, and relate it to you on the
way. That is such an amusing thing that it is worth while
to hear it. Ha!"

Accordingly after a while they went and the jovial doctor
began to recite his Odyssey.

"I arrived," he said, "a little fatigued, for that is a distant
journey, and besides it is necessary to change cars, wait
for trains at the stations, and so forth — the usual order
with us. I reached the country-seat late and after greeting
my brother, I went to bed at once. But the following day
I had barely unpacked the primers — you remember,
gentlemen ? — those I brought with me for the petty nobility
— and I had barely reproved my 'provincial' brother,
when an emergency call came summoning me to a high

WHIRLPOOLS. 367

official who has an estate adjoining our seat and in summer
resides with his family in the country. Ha 1 there was no
help for it — I ride ! And what appears ? Why, a thimble
stuck in a child's throat. I found the child already livid,
but the moment I pulled the thimble out, the infant went
away playing and everything was in the best order. There
was nothing else to do. I saved a future dignitary to the
empire, and to the parents an only son, as the other chil-
dren were daughters. So the gratitude was immense. They
pay — certainly ! I wanted to ride away and iterated that
there is nothing more to do. They would not let me go.
Gratitude, breakfast, cordiality, friendship, overflowing of
Slavonic feelings, and a chat which after a time passed into
a political discussion. l There is not,' says the dignitary,
* harmony amidst brothers. And what a pity! Religion
and tongue divide their languages. But what is religion,
if not only an outward form ? God is one. It is the same
to Him whether He is glorified in the Latin or the Slavonic
language. Why, for Slavonians it is more seemly if in the
Slavonic. And as to the tongue, then the various dialects
could be limited to conversations at home. Why, however,
should not one language be adopted, not only officially,
but in literature ? The convenience would be greater, the
control easier. Then you would abandon your Catholicism
and your dialects and accept ours — the one and the
other, — but heartily and voluntarily. And harmony
would immediately follow. The times for you would be
better. There would be downright delight.' — "

"He mistook his man," interrupted Gronski, laughing.

"And that he should chance upon me," replied the doctor.
"I, gentlemen, am a deist, a philosopher, but a passable
Catholic. Often it happens that I assail the church just
as I assail Poland whenever anything occurs which dis-
pleases me. Only if some stranger does the same thing in
my presence then — a strange thing ! — I have a desire to

368 WHIRLPOOLS.

knock out his teeth. Therefore I began to defend the
Church as if I never in my life crawled out of a sacristy ;
bah, even better, in a way as if I was a Catholic apologist.
'If/ I said, 'religion is only an external form tell me just
why should we abandon this form of ours/ which is the
most spiritualized, the most cultural, and the most beautiful.
That Catholicism, with which you advise us to take our
leave, has encompassed the entire West, organized society,
produced European civilization, preserved learning, has
founded universities, reared churches, which are master-
pieces, gave us Saint Augustine, Dante, Petrarch, Saint
Francis, and Saint Thomas, created the Renaissance,
created Leonardo da Vinci's; "Lord's Supper," Michel-
angelo's "Tombs of the Medici," Raphael's "School of
Athens" and "Disputa," erected such temples as Saint
Peter's, not counting others scattered throughout Italy and
all over Europe. That Catholicism made us partakers of
the universal culture, united us with the West, imprinted
a European stamp upon our Polish soul, etc., etc/ And
I talked in this strain until he interrupted me and said.
'In this is the misfortune, that it has united you with the
West.' And I replied to that, 'A misfortune to whom,
and to whom not a misfortune ? But now we will speak of
your proposition of renouncing the tongue and therefore
the nationality. Know, sir, that this is an empty and
foolish dream. That never will take place. I proclaim
and insist in advance — never! But assuming for a
moment an impossible thing, that a pestilence will so
blight us, that our hearts will be so debilitated that we
will say to ourselves "Enough! — we can no longer be
Poles!" then what? Reflect, sir, objectively, like a man
who has not lost the ability to think, what could restrain
us from becoming Germans? Our Slavonic extraction?
But we are Slavonians, just because we are Poles. You
are a people who do not know how to live and do not permit

WHIRLPOOLS. 369

anybody else to live. So what motive would keep us with
you? Is it your peace? Your welfare? Your morality?
Your administration? Your science? Your learning?
Your wealth ? Your power ? Learn to look in the eyes of
reality; cultivate in yourselves the ability to reckon with
it, and you will understand that by denationalizing us you
labor for some one else. But I reiterate yet once more
that this is only a foolish dream; that the moment of re-
nunciation will never come and if I spoke of it, it was only
to answer those things which you suggested/

"With this our conversation ended. They, in a yet
higher degree than we, cannot endure unpleasant truths,
so my dignitary changed into a decanter of iced water, and
on the leave-taking merely said to me: 'Well, you are too
candid, young man, but I thank you for the child/ A half
an hour later I was at home."

"I can surmise what happened afterwards," said Gronski.

"Yes. As the thimble was removed, that same night I
received an order to leave the next day by the first train."

"Be satisfied that it ended with that."

"I am satisfied. I will stay a few days in Warsaw; I
will see the notary ; I will attend Panna Zbyltowska's con-
cert. Certainly! Certainly!"

Here he addressed Ladislaus.

"How is your mother and your fiancee?"

"Thank you. Mother is not badly, but will soon have
to leave."

And desiring to hide his confusion, he began to gaze
intently into the depths of the street, and after a while
exclaimed :

"But look! I see Panna Marynia with a maid-servant,
and with them some third person is walking."

In reality about a hundred paces down the street Ma-
rynia could be seen approaching, accompanied by a maid-
servant, with the violin in a case. On the other side, though

24

370 WHIRLPOOLS.

somewhat behind, walked a young man with a yellowish
beard, who, leaning towards Marynia, appeared to speak
to her in an earnest and vehement manner. She hast-
ened her steps, turning her head aside, evidently not
desiring to listen to him, while he, keeping pace with her,
gesticulated violently.

"My God ! Some one is molesting her ! " said the doctor.

And all three rushed at full speed towards her.

"Who is that? Who are you, sir?"

And Marynia, seeing Gronski, seized his arm and
trembling all over, began tofcry :

"Home ! Take me home, sir 1"

Gronski understood in a moment that nothing else could
be done and that it was necessary to hurry, as otherwise
Marynia might be embroiled in a vulgar street row. He
was certain that Ladislaus in whom was accumulated an
enormous supply of spleen and irritation, with his impul-
sive nature, would not permit the offence of the assailant
to pass unpunished. So taking the girl aside, he placed
her as soon as possible in a hackney-coach, which was
passing by and ordered the coachman to drive to Pani
Otocka's house.

"There is nothing now. Everything is all right," he said
on the way, to pacify the affrighted Marynia. " From home
we will send a message that there will be no rehearsal
to-day, and with that it will end. It is nothing, nothing."

And he began to press her hand ; after a while, he asked :

"But who was that and what did he want?"

"Pan Laskowicz," answered Marynia. "I did not recog-
nize him at first, but he told me who he was."

Gronski became distressed when he heard the name of
the student, for it occurred to him that if the encounter
with Ladislaus ended with the police, then the consequences
for Laskowicz might prove fatal directly. But not desiring
to betray his uneasiness before Marynia, and at the same

WHIRLPOOLS. 371

time wishing to better quiet her, he spoke to her half
jokingly:

"So that was Laskowicz? Then I already know what
he wanted. Ah ! Ah ! — Some one begins to play not only
on the violin but on the soul. — Only why did you allow
yourself to be so frightened?"

"For he also threatened," answered Marynia. "He
threatened all terribly — "

"Such bugbears only children fear."

"True! Especially as I am to play for the hungry ; they
will not do any wrong to me or any of us."

"Assuredly not," confirmed Gronski.

Conversing thus, they reached home. Gronski surren-
dered Marynia to Pani Otocka's care and when, after a
moment, Hanka appeared, he related to them everything
which had occurred. He likewise had to quiet Pani Otocka,
who, knowing of the letters, took the whole occurrence very
much to heart and announced that immediately after the
concert they would leave for Zalesin, and afterwards go
abroad. After the lapse of a half hour he left and on the
stairs met Ladislaus.

"God be praised," he said, "I see that it -did not
end with the police. Do you know that the man was
Laskowicz?"

"And it seemed so to me," said Ladislaus with anima-
tion; "but this one had light hair. How is Marynia?"

"She was frightened a little but now is well. Both
ladies are at her side and dandle her like a little chicken.
They are so occupied with her that Pani Otocka certainly
will not receive you."

"And I thought so; especially, if she is there," answered
Ladislaus, with bitterness; "so I will only leave my card
and will return at once. Do you care to wait for
me?"

"Very well."

372 WHIRLPOOLS.

Accordingly, he returned after a while, and when they
were on the street, he began to say:

"Yes I and to me it seemed that he was Laskowicz but
I was puzzled by the light tuft of hair on his head and the
spectacles. After all there was no time for thinking."

"Listen — you undoubtedly cudgelled him?" asked
Gronski.

And Ladislaus answered reluctantly:

"Far too much, for he is an emaciated creature, and he
evidently did not have a revolver."

For some time they walked in silence; after which
Gronski said:

"Your mother needs a cure; the ladies will depart
from here immediately after the concert and Miss Anney
undoubtedly with them. I would advise you also to think
about yourself."

Ladislaus waved his hand.

At the same time in a garret in the quarters of the "fe-
male associate," Laskowicz said to Pauly:

"Pan Krzycki is a true gentleman. He battered me a
while ago because I dared to approach her."

And he began to laugh through his set teeth.

WHIRLPOOLS. 373

XIV

THE day of the concert arrived. On the sofa in the
sisters' dressing-room lay, ready at an early hour,
Marynia's evening dress, white as snow, light as foam,
transparent as the mist, and fragrant with violets which
were to form her sole adornment. Previously, Pani
Otocka and Gronski held a long and grave consultation
over that dress, for both craved warmly that their beloved
"divinity" should captivate not only the ears but the eyes.
In the meanwhile the "divinity" bustled about all the
rooms, now seizing the violin and repeating the more
difficult passages, now taking the boxes of bon-bons which
Gronski had sent to her; then joking with her sister and
predicting fright at her first public appearance. This
fright also possessed Pani Otocka who consoled herself
only with the thought that Marynia indeed would tremble
upon entering on the stage, but from the moment she began
to play would forget everything. She knew also that a
warm ovation awaited the beloved violinist, likewise
numerous baskets of flowers, from the "Committee for
aiding the hungry," and from acquaintances. Notwith-
standing their uneasiness both sisters felt a great joy in their
souls, as the concert, owing to the arrivals during the racing
season, promised to be highly successful, and it was already
known that the receipts would be extraordinary. Marynia
besides found a cure for her fright: "When I think," she
said to her sister, "that so many eyes will gaze at me, my
heart is in my mouth, but when I recollect that I am not

374 WHIRLPOOLS.

concerned but only the poor, then I cease to fear. So I
will save myself In this manner: entering upon the stage,
I will repeat quietly, ' JT is for the poor ! ' t is for the poor ! '
and everything will come off in the best possible way!"
And when she spoke, her voice quivered with honest
emotion as her young heart felt deeply the woes of the
unfortunate who did not have any bread, and at the same
time she felt proud and happy at the thought that she
would be instrumental in their relief. She even experienced
certain pangs of conscience on account of the new dress
and the new satin shoes, as it occurred to her that this
outlay might have been expended for bread.

About noon Hanka came and took both sisters to her
apartments for breakfast. Gronski, who was invited, did
not appear, as at that time he was to meet a few journalists.
Marynia took her violin with her with the intention of
playing after the breakfast the first part of the programme,
and in the meanwhile, waiting before they were seated at
table, she began to look out from Hanka's salon through
the open window on the street.

The day was fair and clear. During the night an abun-
dant rain had fallen which settled the dust, washed the city's
stone pavements, refreshed the grass plots, and laved the
leaves on the trees. The air became fresh and bracing.
From the two acacias, growing under the windows of
Hanka's residence, which strewed the walk near them with
petals white as snow, came a sweet scent, strong and intoxi-
cating as if from a censer. Marynia partly closed her eyes
and, moving her delicate nostrils, sated herself with the
perfume with delight, after which she turned to the depth
of the room.

"It smells so sweet," she said.

"It does, little kitten," answered Hanka, interrupting a
conversation with Pani Otocka. " I purposely ordered the
window to be opened."

WHIRLPOOLS. 375

And the acacias not only smelt sweet but seemed to
sing, for both were cumbered by a countless diet of spar-
rows so that the leaves and flowers quivered from their
chirping.

The maiden watched for some time with delighted eyes
the small, nimble birds; after which her attention was
directed to something entirely different. On the walk
before the house, in the middle of the street and on the
sidewalk on the opposite side, there began to gather and
stand clusters of people who, raising their heads, gazed
intently at the windows of Hanka's residence.

Some wretchedly dressed people spoke with the door-
keeper standing at the gate, evidently questioning him
about something. The clusters each moment became
more numerous and, together with the passers-by, who
remained out of curiosity, changed into a mob of sev-
eral hundred heads. Marynia jumped back from the
window.

"Look," she cried, "what is taking place on the street.
Oh ! oh I Perhaps they are the poor coming to thank me
in advance? What shall I do if they come here? what
shall I answer? I am not able. — Come, see!"

And saying this, she drew her sister and Hanka to the
window. The three young heads leaned out of the window
on to the street, but in that moment an incomprehensible
thing happened. A ragged stripling pulled out of his
pocket a stone and hurled it with all his strengh into the
open window. The stone flew over Pani Otocka's head,
rebounded on the opposite wall, and fell with noise upon the
floor. Hanka, Marynia, and Zosia drew back from the
window and began to look at each other with inquiring
and startled eyes.

In the meantime on the street resounded savage out-
cries; the rabble battered down the gate; on the stairs
sounded the stamping of feet, after which in the twinkling

376 WHIRLPOOLS.

of an eye the doors leading to the room burst open with a
crash, and a mob, composed of Christians and some Jews,
filled the residence.

"Away with the kept mistress ! Strike 1 tear I smash !"
howled hoarse voices.

"For the mercy of God! People, what do you want
here?" cried Hanka.

"Away with the kept mistress! away with the kept
mistress ! through the window ! on to the street I"

In a moment a young man-servant, who rushed to
the assistance of the ladies^sras thrown upon the ground
and trampled upon. Amidst the dreadful commotion,
which the mob increased more and more, the human beasts
became unfettered. Women with disheveled hair, filthy
striplings with the marks of crime upon their degenerate
features, and all manner of ragamuffins with drunken
faces, rushed at the furniture, divans, bed curtains, and
everything which fell into their hands. In the residence
an orgy of destruction prevailed. The rooms were filled
with the stench of sweat and whiskey. The mob became
infuriated ; it broke, smashed, stole. On the street, under
the windows piles of splintered furniture were formed.
They threw out even the piano. Finally some ruffian, with
a pock-marked visage, seized Marynia's violin and brand-
ished it, desiring to shatter it on the wall.

But she jumped to its aid and seized his fist with both
hands.

"That is mine! that is mine! — I am to play for the
poor — "

"Let go I"

"I will not let go ! — that is mine I"

"Let go, carrion!"

"That is mine!"

A shot was fired, and, simultaneously, Pani Otocka's
scream pierced the air. Marynia stood for a moment with

WHIRLPOOLS. 377

upraised hands and head inclined backwards ; afterwards
she reeled and fell back into Hanka's arms.

The shot and the murder overawed the crowd. The mob
became silent, and after a moment began to scamper away,
panic-stricken.

378 WHIRLPOOLS.

XV

PANI KRZYCKI, Zosia, and Hanka, and with them Gronski,
Ladislaus, and Dr. Szremski surrounded the bed on which
Marynia lay, after the operation and the extraction of the
bullet. A second surgeon, and his assistant sat aloof,
awaiting the awakening of the patient. In the room, filled
with the odor of iodoform, a profound stillness prevailed.
Marynia had previously awoke immediately after the opera-
tion was performed, but stupefied still by the chloroform
and weakened by the loss of blood, she soon sank again
into a slumber. Her beautiful head lay motionless upon
the pillow, her eyes were closed, and her countenance was
waxen and transparent, as if she were already dead. In
Pani Otocka and in Gronski, who but now sounded within
himself the immensity of his affection for that child, de-
spair whimpered with that quiet, terrible whimper, which
lacerates, tugs and rends the bosom but fears to emerge on
the surface. Both glanced time and again with alarm at
Dr. Szremski who from time to time examined Marynia's
pulse, but evidently he himself was uncertain whether that
sleep would be final : he only nodded his head and placed
his finger to his lips in sign of silence.

Nevertheless, their fears for the time being were vain, as
after the lapse of an hour Marynia's eyebrows commenced
to rise, quiver, and after a moment she opened her eyes.
Her look, at the beginning, was dull and unconscious.
Slowly, however, the stupefaction left her and conscious-
ness of what had occurred as well as of the present moment
returned. On her countenance appeared an expression

WHIRLPOOLS. 379

of amazement and affliction, such as a child feels who has
been punished cruelly and unjustly. Finally her pupils
darkened and two tears coursed down her cheeks.

"For what? — for what?" she whispered with her
pallid lips.

Pani Otocka sat at her side and placed her palm on her
hand. Gronski was seized with a desire to throw himself
on the ground and beat his head on the floor, while the
patient asked further in an amazed and mournful whisper :

" For what ? — for what ? "

God alone could answer that question. But in the
meantime the doctor approached and said :

"Do not speak, child, for that harms."

So she became silent, but the expression of affliction did
not disappear from her countenance, and tears continued
to flow.

Her sister began to wipe them off; repeating in a sub-
dued voice:

"Marynia, Marynia, calm yourself — you will be well —
you %re not dangerously wounded — • no, no — the doctor
guarantees that — "

Marynia raised her eyes at her as if she desired to divine
whether she was telling the truth. It appeared, however,
that she listened to her sister's words with a certain hope.

After which, she said:

" It is sultry. — "

The doctor opened the window of the room. Out in
the open air the night was fair and starry. Waves of
fresh air brought the scent of the acacias.

The patient lay for some time calm, but suddenly she
began again to seek somebody with her eyes and asked :

"Is Pan Gronski here?"

"I am, dear, I am — "

"You, sir — will not — let me ? — Truly — "

To Gronski it seemed at that moment that he was

380 WHIRLPOOLS.

enveloped by a deep night and that amidst that impenetra-
ble darkness he answered in a strange voice :

"No, no!"

And she spoke with terror, her countenance growing
more and more pallid:

" I do not want to die — I am afraid — "

And again tears began to trickle from her eyes — tears
inconsolable, tears of a wronged child.

The entrance of a priest relieved the harrowing moment.
It was the same old prelate, a relative of the Krzyckis and
the Zbyltowskis, who previously shrived Pani Krzycki.
Drawing nearer, he sat beside Marynia' s bed and bending
over her with a cheering smile, full of hope, said :

"How are you, dear child? Ah, the wretches! — But
God is more powerful than they and everything will end
well. I only came to ask about your health. God be
praised the bullet is already extracted. — Now only patience
is necessary and you will be patient — will you not?"

Marynia winked her eyes as a token of acquiescence.

The amiable old man continued in a more genial and as
if jubilant voice:

"Ah I I knew that you would. Now I will tell you that
there is something which often is more efficacious than all
the medicines and bandages. Do you know what it is?
The Sacrament ! Ho ! how often in life have I seen that
people, who were separated from death by a hair, became
at once better after confession, communion, and anoint-
ment, and after that recovered their health entirely. You,
my dove, are surely far from death, but since it is a Chris-
tian duty, which helps the soul and body, it is necessary to
perform it. Well, child?"

Marynia again winked her eyes in sign of assent.

Those present retired from the room and returned only
upon the sound of the little bell to be witnesses to the Com-
munion. The patient, after receiving it, lay for some time

WHIRLPOOLS. 381

with closed eyelids and a quiet brightness in her counte-
nance, after which the moment of extreme unction arrived.

In the room assembled, besides those previously present,
the servants of the house; suppressing their sobs, they
heard the customary prayers before the rite.

"Lord, Jesus Christ, who hast said through Thy apostle
Saint James, ' Is any man sick among you ? Let him bring
in the priests of the Church and let them pray over him,
anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord/ We
implore Thee, Lord God, our Redeemer, for the grace of
The Holy Ghost: have mercy upon this sick one, heal
her wounds, pardon her sins, and banish from her all pains
of soul and body and in Thy mercy return health completely
to her, in order that, restored to life, she may again give
herself up to good deeds. Oh Thou, who being God,
livest and reignest with the Father and Holy Ghost, now
and forever. Amen."

The priest appeared to hurry. Quickly he took the
vessel standing between two candles under the crucifix
and approaching the patient he whispered the second,
brief prayer required by the ritual, and at the same time
began to administer extreme unction. He first touched
the girl's eyelids, saying, " Through this holy unction and
His own most tender mercy, may the Lord pardon thee
whatever sins or faults thou hast committed by sight";
after that he anointed her ears to purge the sins which she
might have committed through the sense of hearing; after
that the lips; after that the hands, resembling two white
lilies, which that day were to have played for the poor;
and finally he blessed her whole body from head to feet
— already purified of all blemish and already as truly
angelic and immaculate as a lily in the field.

A half hour passed. To those present it seemed that
the patient again succumbed to slumber. But unex-
pectedly she opened her eyes wide, and cried in a stronger,
as if joyful, voice :

382 WHIRLPOOLS.

"How much bread ! — How much bread 1 — "
And she expired calmly.

During the depth of the night, a young man came to the
gate and asked the doorkeeper whether the little lady was
still alive and, hearing that she had died, he left in silence.

An hour later in the garret of one of the houses near the
Vistula a shot from a revolver was fired, and, filled with
consternation, the inmates suddenly awakened from their
sleep. The people in the neighboring rooms flocked to the
place of the accident. T% locked doors of the room were
battered down but all aid was futile. On the bed lay the
dead body of the student with his breast perforated by a
shot.

The gloomy, tragic soul had already flown into darkness.

WHIRLPOOLS. 383

XVI

THE room in which Marynia died was changed into a
funeral chamber. The coffin stood in the middle, high,
amidst burning candles and a whole forest of plants and
flowers, of which such a number were amassed that they
filled not only the chamber but even the anteroom and the
stairway. The coffin was still open and in the brightness
of the day, blended with the light of the wax-candles,
Marynia could be seen dressed in that same dress in which
she was to have appeared at the concert. The little metal
cross which she held in her folded hands glittered like a
sparkling spot on a dark background of plants. Her face
was pensive, but without the slightest trace of suffering, —
and at the same time as if she was absorbed in listening to
voices, sounds, and tones, which were inaudible and in-
comprehensible to mortals.

Though the open windows there blew in from time to
time a breeze, extinguishing here and there the unsteady
flames of the candles and causing the leaves of the plants
to rustle. On the acacias in front of the house the sparrows
chirped boisterously; one would think that they were
relating to each other feverishly what had happened ; while
at the side of the catafalque a human stream flowed.
There came with wreaths, workingmen, for whose benefit
the concert was to have been given, and at the sight of the
barbarously slain little lady, they left with fire in their eyes
and clenched fists. The intelligence of the monstrous
and reckless crime attracted whole throngs of students,
who determined to carry the coffin on their shoulders. In
the meantime they moved slowly and quietly about the

384 WHIRLPOOLS.

catafalque, gazing with bosoms swelling with sympathy
and grief at the silvery profile of the girl, turned towards
heaven, and unconsciously they recalled the words of the
poet:

" And now in pale satin enshrouded,
In silence, hands folded, she lies."

Horror, indignation, and at the same time curiosity aroused
the city from centre to circumference. Even the streets in
front of the house were thronged by great crowds — un-
easy, being unable to exp]#in to themselves how such a
thing happened — and, as if, alarmed by the thought of
what the future might bring forth, what other crimes
might be committed and what other victims the uncertain
morrow might devour.

The remains of Marynia were to be conveyed to the
railway and from there to Zalesin where the tombs of the
Otockis were located. Immediately after noon the coffin
was taken off the stretchers and then, before its sealing,
came for Pani Otocka and for Gronski the dreadful mo-
ment of viewing for the last time in life that beloved being
who was for them a light and sun. If she had died of some
sickness their despair might not have been less, but it would
have been more intelligible to them. But she was mur-
dered I They murdered this sweet and innocent child,
just at a time when she wanted to aid people and when she
rejoiced at the thought of that aid. Murdered was that
incarnate song, that fragrant flower, sent by God for the
joy of mankind I And in just this there was something
which could not be confined within the limits of despair,
but reached into the borders of madness. For lo, this is
the last moment for beholding that love, that youth, that
maidenly charm, that white victim of crime and mistake ;
and after that nothingness, darkness, — solitude.

But overstrained pain kills itself like a scorpion, it covers

WHIRLPOOLS. 385

the intellect with darkness, and commands the blood to
congeal in the veins. That happened with the sister of
the slain. For a long time Dr. Szremski was uncertain
whether he would be able to restore her to life. In the
consternation and confusion it was hardly observed that
into the chamber there rushed an insane woman and,
whining mournfully, she flung herself upon the ground.
Swidwicki led her away with the aid of the students and
intrusted her to their care.

In the meantime the coffin was sealed ; the youths placed
it on their shoulders and the funeral party moved towards
the railway. After them marched a long procession, at
the end of which empty carriages jogged along. The ever-
increasing swarm flowed along the middle of the streets and
sidewalks ; and not until they reached the bridge did those
who joined the procession only through curiosity begin to
return home.

Swidwicki approached Dr. Szremski, and for some time
both walked in silence, not perceiving that they were re-
maining more and more behind the procession.

"You knew the deceased?" asked the doctor.

"Otocki was my relative."

"Ah, what a horrible mistake it was?"

But Swidwicki blurted out :

"That was no mistake. That is the logical result of the
times, and in those that are coming such accidents will
become a customary, every-day occurrence."

"How do you understand that?"

"The way it should be understood. That coffin has
greater meaning than it seems. That is an announcement !
A mistake ? No ! That was only an incident. Lo, to-day
we are burying a harp, which wanted to play for the people,
but which the rabble trampled upon with their filthy feet.
• — Wait, sir! Let things continue to proceed thus, and
who knows whether, after ten or twenty years, we will not

25

386 WHIRLPOOLS.

thus bury learning, art, culture, bah! even the entire
civilization. And that not only here but everywhere.
There will be an endless series of such events. — To me,
after all, it is all one, but absolutely it is possible."

The doctor ruminated for some time in silence over
Swidwicki' s words ; finally he exclaimed :

"Ah, knowledge, knowledge, knowledge."

Swidwicki stood still, seized the doctor by the flap of
his coat and shaking his goat-like beard, said :

"Hear, sir, an atheist, or at least, a man who has nothing
to do with any religion : knowledge without religion breeds
only thieves and bandits."

The procession paused for a while on account of an
obstruction on the road; so conversing, they drew nearer
to the coffin ; nevertheless, Swidwicki, though lowering his
voice, did not cease to talk :

"Ay, sir — a great many people think the same as I
do ; only they have not the courage to say it aloud. After
all, I reiterate it is all one to me, — we are lost past all
help. With us there are only whirlpools. — And 'these,
not whirlpools upon a watery gulf, beneath which is a calm
depth, but whirlpools of sand. Now the whirlwind blows
from the East and the sterile sand buries our traditions,
our civilization, our culture — our whole Poland — and
transforms her into a wilderness upon which flowers
perish and only jackals can live."

Here he pointed to Marynia's coffin :

"Lo, there is a flower which has withered. Do you
know, sir, why I, though a relative, seldom visited them ?
Because I felt ashamed before her eyes."

They reached the station and went upon the roadway,
from which could be seen the coach, decorated with flowers
and fir-tree boughs.

"Are you riding to Zalesin?" asked the doctor.

"I am. I want to gaze at Pani Otocka. God knows

WHIRLPOOLS. 387

what now will become of her. And see, sir, how Gronski
looks. An old man — what ? Now his Latin and books
will not help him."

"Who would not have felt this," answered the doctor.
"Krzycki also looks as if he were taken off the cross."

"Krzycki? But perhaps it is because his matrimonial
plans are broken."

Further conversation was interrupted by the orchestra
which began to play Chopin's "Funeral March."

388 WHIRLPOOLS.

XVII

DR. SZREMSKI upon his return to the hotel began to ponder
over Swidwicki's words, which were imbedded deeply in
his memory. Before his eyes there glided a picture of the
funeral procession and that coffin, with the victim, mur-
dered by those to whom she wanted to do good. "Yes,
yes!" he said to himself, "fnat apparently was a mistake,
but similar mistakes are the logical consequences of the
unbridled, blind, animal instincts. We must admit that
we are flying at break-neck speed into some bottomless
abyss. And not only we. But is it allowable to conclude
from this, that, as to-day we conducted song, murdered
by the rabble, so after ten, twenty, or fifty years we will
witness the burial of learning, culture, and civilization?
Apparently — yes. It is high time that God, Who rules
the world, should give new proofs that He in reality
rules. It ought to thunder so that the earth would tremble
— or what ? Mankind are entering upon a road which
is directly opposite to entire nature. For the whole en-
deavor of nature is to create as perfect beings as possible
and through them to ennoble the species; and humanity
perversely kills them as it did that angelic child, or
else seizes them by the hair to drag them from the heights
to the general level. And nevertheless this is but a specious
appearance. If the engineers determined to excavate all
the mountains and make the earth as smooth and even as
a billiard ball, some convulsions would take place, some
eruptions of volcanoes would occur, which would create
new abysses and new heights. Of the Aryan spirit can be
said that which the Grecians, enamoured with the soothing^

WHIRLPOOLS. 389

architectonical lines, said of the Roman arches: 'The arch
will never fall asleep/ Likewise the Aryan spirit. The
humanity, which possesses it, is incapable of drifting into
infinity on one wave, thinking one thought and living in one
idea. That which is to-day — will pass away. On the
summits of reason, feeling, and will, new whirlwinds will
generate and they will raise new waves."

Here the doctor's thoughts were apparently directed
nearer to matters lying more on his heart, for he began
to clench his fist and pace with big, uneasy steps about the
room.

"Will we," he said to himself, "however," remain
amidst these convulsions, waves, and whirlwinds ? Whirl-
pools ? Whirlpools ! — and of sand ! Sand is burying the
whole of Poland and transforming her into a wilderness,
on which jackals live. If this is so, then it would be best
to put a bullet in the head. — I am curious as to what
Gronski would say to this — but lightning has struck his
head and it is of no use to speak to him. — We are lost past
all help ? That is untrue I Beneath these whirlpools which
are whirling upon the surface of our life is something which
Swidwicki did not perceive. There is more than elsewhere,
for there is a bottomless depth of suffering. There plainly
is not in the world greater misfortune than ours. With us
the people awake in the morning and follow the plough in
the field, go to the factory, to the offices, behind the benches
in the shops, and all manner of labor — in pain. They go
to sleep in pain. That suffering is as boundless as the ex-
panse of the sea while the whirlpools are but ripples upon
that expanse. And why do we suffer thus ? Of course, we
might, at once, to-morrow, breathe more freely and be hap-
pier. It would be sufficient for .every one to say to Her,
that Poland, of whom Swidwicki says that she is perishing,
'Too much dost Thou pain me, too much dost Thou vex
me ; therefore I renounce Thee and from this day wish to

390 WHIRLPOOLS.

forget Thee/ — And nevertheless nobody says that; not
even such a Swidwicki, who prevaricated when he said it is
all one to him ; not even they who throw bombs, and mur-
der sisters and brothers I — And if it is so that we prefer to
suffer than renounce Her, then where are the jackals and
where is Her destruction ? Jackals seek carrion, not suffer-
ing ! So She lives in every one of us, in all of us together,
and will survive all the whirlpools in the world. And we
will set our teeth and will continue to suffer for Thee,
Mother, and we — and if God so wills it, — and our chil-
dren and grandchildren will not renounce neither Thee
nor hope."

Here Szremski was touched by his own thoughts, but
dawn brightened his countenance. He found an answer
to the question which Swidwicki thrust into his soul.
Walking, he began to repeat: "For nothing, nobody would
consent to suffer thus." After which it occurred to his mind
that to suffer for Her was not yet sufficient, for he began to
rub his hands and turn up his rumpled sleeves, as if he
wanted at once to do some important and urgent work.
But, after a while, he observed that he was in the hotel,
so he smiled, with his sincere, peculiar smile, and said aloud :

"Ha! It cannot be helped. To-morrow I must return
to my hole and push the wheelbarrow along."

And suddenly he sighed :

"To my solitary hole."

After which, he, himself, not knowing why, recollected
what Swidwicki had told him about the breaking of
Krzycki's matrimonial engagement, and his thoughts, like
winged birds, began to fly to Zalesin.

THE END

fHE ZAGLOBA ROMANCES
by Henry k Sienkiewicz. Translated from
the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD

An Historical Novel of Poland and Russia. Illustrated.
Crown 8vo. $i.$onet.

The first of the famous trilogy of historical romances
of Poland, Russia, and Sweden. Their publication
has been received as an event in literature. Charles
Dudley Warner, in Harper's Magazine, affirms that
the Polish author has in Zagloba given a new crea-
tion to literature.

A capital story. The only modern romance with which it can
be compared for fire, sprightliness, rapidity of action, swift changes,
anft absorbing interest is "The Three Musketeers" of Dumas. —
Nttv York Tribune.

THE DELUGE

An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia.
A Sequel to " With Fire and Sword." With map.
2 vols. Crown 8vo. $3.00 net.

Marvellous in its grand descriptions. — Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Has the humor of a Cervantes and the grim vigor of Defoe. —
Boston Gazette.

PAN MICHAEL

An Historical Novel of Poland, Russia, and the
Ukraine. A Sequel to "With Fire and Sword"
and " The Deluge." Crown 8vo. $1.50 net.

The interest of the trilogy, both historical and romantic, is
splendidly sustained. — The Dial, Chicago.

LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

QUO VADIS

A Narrative of the Time of Nero. By HENRYK
SIENKIEWICZ. Translated from the Polish by JERE-
MIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. $1.50 net.

One of the greatest books of our day. — The Bookman.

The book is like a grand historical pageant. — Literary World.

Of intense interest to the whole Christian civilization. — Chicago
Tribune. ^

Interest never wanes ; and the story is carried through its many
phases of conflict and terror to a climax that enthralls. — Chicago
Record.

As a study of the introduction of the gospel of love into the
pagan world typified by Rome, it is marvellously fine. — Chicago
Interior.

The picture here given of life in Rome under the last of the
Caesars is one of unparalleled power and vividness. — Boston Horn*
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One of the most remarkable books of the decade. It burns
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It will become recognized by virtue of its own merits as the one
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Our debt to Sienkiewicz is not less than our debt to his trans-
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tions are all his. — Boston Transcript.

LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS

An Historical Romance of Poland and Germany.
By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. Translated from the
Polish by JEREMIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. 2 vols.
Crown 8vo. $2.00 net.

The greatest work Sienkiewicz has given us. — Buffalo Express.

It seems superior even to "Quo Vadis " in strength and
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The construction of the story is beyond praise. It is difficult t*
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— Chicago Evening Post.

There are some scenes in the book that for power and excite-
ment remind one of the great encounter between Ursus and the bull
in " Quo Vadis." — Minneapolis Tribune.

Vivid, dramatic, and vigorous. . . . His imaginative power,
his command of language, and the picturesque scenes he sets com-
bine to fascinate the reader. — Philadelphia Bulletin.

A book that holds your almost breathless attention as in a vise
from the very beginning, for in it love and strife, the most thrilling
of all worldly subjects, are described masterfully. — The Boston
Journal.

Another remarkable book. His descriptions are tremendously
effective j one can almost hear the sound of the carnage ; to the
mind's eye the scene of battle is unfolded by a master artist. — The
Hartford Courant.

Thrillingly dramatic, full of strange local color and very faith-
ful to its period, besides having that sense of the mysterious and
weird that throbs in the Polish blood and infects alike their music
and literature. — The St. Paul Globe.

LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

OTHER NOVELS AND ROMANCES
by Henry k Sienkiewicz. Translated from
the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin.

CHILDREN OF THE SOIL

Crown 8vo. $1.50 net.

It must be reckoned among the finer fictions of our time, and
shows its author to be almost as great a master in the field of the
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HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES

With portrait. Crown 8vo. $1.50 net.

At the highest level of the author's genius. — The Outlook.

SIELANKA, A FOREST PICTURE

And Other Stories. With frontispiece. Crown 8vo.
$1.50 net.

They exhibit the masterly genius of Sienkiewicz even better
than his longer romances. They abound in fine character-drawings
and beautiful descriptions. — Chicago Inter-Ocean.

ON THE FIELD OF GLORY

An Historical Romance of Poland in the Reign of
King John Sobieski. I zmo. cloth. $1.50 net.

WITHOUT DOGMA

A Novel of Modern Poland. (Translated from the
Polish by Iza Young.) Crown 8vo. $1.50 net.

A human document read in the light of a great imagination. —
Boston Beacon.

LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

PG Sienkiewicz, Henryk
7158 Whirlpools
S4W513

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